Unfallen
by JoMarchWrites
Summary: When it rains, it pours, as they say. And they, whoever they are, couldn't be more right. The lives of the SVU detectives at the 16th Precinct in Manhattan are about to fall apart, one after the other. Two of them will catch each other on the way down, cushioning each brutal blow they are dealt. It all means something, & they will discover the truth as they try to remain unfallen.
1. Chapter 1

**_Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction._**

"I just...I don't know what I'm gonna do." Casey Novak swirled her drink, the ice clinking against the short glass. Her red hair fell into her even redder eyes, and her chin and lower lip trembled with the need to cry. Refusing to give into the tears, she swung her arm and tossed the drink back, not even grimacing as she swallowed. "I don't know how to do anything else," she griped.

Olivia Benson, her friend and colleague, shook her head painfully as she watched Casey signal the bartender for a refill. "You should slow down." The more she looked at Casey, in her current state, the more she thought of her mother, and the lifetime of memories she'd much rather forget. "You really...you shouldn't have another one."

"Why not?" Casey scoffed. "It's not like I have to be at work tomorrow. Or the day after." She chuckled bitterly. "Suspended," she spat. "For a fucking year. There's no coming back from that." She bit down hard on her lip and turned her head, scoffing once more as she looked at Olivia. "I did this for you. You and your asshole partner."

"Hey!" Olivia barked back. "Don't you dare! I didn't ask you to commit a Brady violation, and Elliot certainly didn't force your hand in that direction, either! You did this all by yourself, for your own reasons! If you would have talked to either of us about this before you did it, we would have talked you out of it, so don't fucking try to drag us down with you."

Casey nodded at the bartender as he dropped another glass of whiskey in front of her, and she lifted it to her lips as she raised an eyebrow at Olivia. "You and Stabler, you're an 'us,' now?"

Rolling her eyes, Olivia took a long sip of her beer, the bottle being gripped tighter in her hand. She flicked her long, dark brown bangs out of her eyes with one finger as she picked at the label of her beer bottle with her other hand. "You know what I meant."

"And I know what you wanted to mean," Casey said, licking her lips. "You know, I'm a pretty decent judge of character, and I picked up a few skills working with you, so I notice details and shit." She turned on her bar stool and pointed at Olivia with a perfectly manicured finger, her lips curling and her eyes narrowing. "If you so much as shoot a suggestive glance in his direction, he'll pounce on you like a cat on...that stuff...the stuff that cats like."

"Catnip?" Olivia offered, suppressing a laugh and hiding a smirk. "You're so incredibly drunk, my friend."

Casey shook her head. "Not drunk enough to know I'm right. I see the way you look at each other." She tossed back the rest of her drink and slammed the glass on the table. "When's his trial?"

Olivia narrowed her eyes. "Elliot? He didn't do anything..."

"He is not the only 'he' in the world, just the only one in your world," Casey chided, cutting her off. "I meant Lake. The bastard who cost me my career."

Olivia flinched at the mention of that name. Chester Lake had caused more trouble for her unit in the past two weeks than anyone had in the last five years combined. His involvement in a pair of brutal murders, both victims tied to law enforcement, had caused a shit-storm she couldn't find a way to avoid. It formed a terrible rift between her partner, Elliot, and Lake's own partner, Fin, another member of their team. The tension between them ebbed and flowed and boiled, and Olivia usually ended up caught in the middle and forced to take sides. Ninety-nine percent of the time, the side she chose was Elliot's. The constant crashing caused issues with their captain, too, who seemed to think that the answer to everything was a day-or-two at home.

For Olivia, it was always torture, since she went home to an empty apartment every night. For her partner, though, it was probably welcome bliss. He got to spend more time with his perfect family and newborn baby boy. She rolled her eyes again at that thought, her jealousy hidden beneath self-loathing, and she shook her head as she pulled a twenty-dollar-bill out of her pocket and threw it on the bar. "The Twenty-Fifth," she said, finally answering the question.

"Soon," Casey muttered, spinning the empty glass in her hand. Before she was brought before the Bar, she had already planned her course of attack. Now, though, she'd never get to run into the battle. "Tucker involved?"

Olivia nodded. "He's a cop, so IAB is all over it. And, uh, it's coming up fast. Chief of Ds wanted expedition." She swallowed the last bit of her beer. "Langan is defending him, can you believe that?"

Casey was silent, staring into the depths of her empty glass. "Who's prosecuting?"

Olivia took a deep breath and shoved her hands in her pockets as she rose out of her seat. "I have no idea." She looked at Casey. "Close out your tab. I'm taking you home."

"I'm not drunk enough to fuck you, Benson," Casey joked.

Olivia chuckled. "Yeah, you wish that was a proposition, Novak." She waited as Casey flagged down the bartender. Her phone buzzed, then, and she squinted as she fished it out of her pocket. "Benson," she answered, not bothering to look at the caller identification. "Hey, what's...where are you? Slow down. Breathe. El, I need you to...at the bar, but I...um, ten minutes, why?" She listened and her eyes widened. "Okay, okay. You go inside...you have the key, I will be right there, I promise. Yeah, I know. Me, too." She hung up and stared at the phone, confusion mixing with hope, and sadness mixing with fury all at once.

"Go," Casey said, putting her card in her wallet. "Tommy said he'd drive me home. That sounded like Stabler, and it sounded important, so...go."

Olivia nodded at Casey and then threw a thankful wave at Tommy, the bartender. She ran out of the dingy, smoky bar and ran as fast as she could in the direction of her apartment, which, tonight, for a tragic reason no one was prepared to deal with, wouldn't be so lonely.

Her mind raced with thought after thought, rehearsing conversations she'd never have the balls to initiate but felt the need to have on stand-by. The people passing by her were nothing more than blurry streaks of color and fuzzy noises, she was so focused on reaching home. Reaching him.

Every step she took, it felt as though the granite was crumbling beneath her feet. Her long, leather jacket stuck to itself in protest, making it harder for her arms to swing with each powerful footfall. Her jeans gripped her thighs and tugged at the seams, and she cursed under her breath that this had happened on her day off, when she wasn't dressed for running this fast.

She rounded the corner of her block just as her lungs began to burn and the heels of her boots angrily pressed into the heels of her feet, she slowed to a jog, and then a walk. When she came to a stop in front of her building's front steps, she met his eyes and held up a hand and hunched over, panting.

"Jesus," his voice hissed as his hand fell to her shoulder. "I told you to take your time!"

She shook her head as she looked up at him, pointing at him as she heaved heavy breaths. She tried to stand up straight as she shook her head and pointed again, telling him that, when it came to him, she'd always rush.

He pulled her into a hug, knowing they both needed it, and whispered, "Thank you," into her ear.

She pulled away first, her need for oxygen painfully winning the war against the need to feel his arms around her again. With one more deep breath, she gestured to her steps and sat down on the top one. She watched him sit beside her, kicking over a large duffle bag. "Tell me," she breathed. "El, tell me what happened. What did she say to you?"

He pressed his lips together and folded his hands, wringing his fingers as he tried to find the words. "There was no build-up, no lead-in," he began. He licked his dry, cracked lips and sighed, staring out toward a tree across the street. His grey sweatshirt bunched up as he fidgeted on the stoop. He took a breath, ran a hand down his tired, ashen face, and spoke again. "She said...her exact words were...'I lied to you. I'm sorry," he told her. "And then she handed me his birth certificate and this pile of pages I couldn't force myself to read." He brought one hand up to rub his eyes and squeeze his nose, refusing to cry in front of her, convincing himself she didn't already know he'd cried the whole way from Queens to Manhattan.

She blinked once. "I'm so..."

"You saved his life," he interrupted. "He exists because of you, because you thought he was mine. You did it for me, because you thought he was my son. That was so...beyond incredible of you, but, uh..." He felt the tears start to fall and this time he couldn't hide it. He sniffled as he looked over at her. "He isn't mine."

Her heart broke. Her entire being cracked and shattered and she did the only thing she could think of at that moment. She threw her arms around him and as he buried his head into her neck she said, "Anything you need. It's yours. I'm right here."

He nodded against her and gave a long, hard sniffle, sitting up and wiping his eyes. "Your couch, for starters," he said with a laugh. He blinked away a final tear, calming himself down. "And then a beer might be good. A hot shower. And, uh, we should talk. There's...something else I have to tell you, and now...I think it's safe to say it."

She raised an eyebrow but nodded. "Of course," she said. She got to her feet and grabbed his bag for him, holding an arm out.

He chuckled and used his key to open her door, feeling different this time. He tilted his head, wondering what that lurch in the bottom of his stomach meant, but as he walked toward the elevator with her, he figured it out.

This time, he felt like he was truly coming home.

 _ **Peace and Love**_

 _ **Jo**_


	2. Chapter 2

**_Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction._**

Showered and sitting on the couch with a beer in his hand, he watched her moving around the apartment. "Will you please..."

"No," she interrupted. "If I sit down, if I process this, I'm going to kill her."

"Yeah, well," he said with a sigh, "I'll help you hide the body." He took a swig of his beer and after he swallowed he said, "We made that promise to each other years ago."

"I'm serious," she said, turning and glaring at him. "She knew you would take responsibility for him...that you wouldn't even question..."

He shot off the couch and over to her, holding up a hand. "Calm down."

Her eyes narrowed almost viciously. "Are you serious?" she seethed. She thought he knew better than to tell her to calm down when she was this angry and upset. She shook her head at him, trying to ignore the waft of Ivory soap mixed with his own signature musk, emanating from him. "Why am I more upset than you are?"

He rolled his eyes a bit and gnawed at the inside of his cheek. "Part of me already knew," he admitted, though hearing himself say it was more painful than he imagined it would be. "I questioned it, from the time she told me she was pregnant." He meandered back over to the couch and picked up his beer, standing as he sipped. "You know...we  
were on the brink of divorce...separated...completely." His jaw tightened and he turned to look at her over his shoulder. "And then you left...I was so...fucking alone."

She walked over to him and, without thinking at all, rested a hand on his shoulder. "I'm here, now," she whispered.

"But you should have been here..." he paused, swallowed another long gulp of beer, and dropped the empty bottle to the end-table. He wiped his lips as he turned to look at her. Put it this way," he said, rubbing his forehead. "I should have gone home with you, that night. We both fucking know that, and there's really no damn point in trying to deny it now." He stayed fixed on her eyes for a moment, seeing if his words registered, looking for some reaction. He watched the glint in her eyes flicker, and he allowed himself to smile just a bit. "Yeah, you know it, and I know it." He smoothed a hand down his freshly-shaven face and said, "The papers are still in the glove compartment of my car. I'm bringing them in tomorrow, handing them to the first lawyer I see."

Her face was expressionless, but she didn't trust her voice to be devoid of emotion. She nodded and took a breath, took his empty bottle into her hand, and walked into her kitchen. She tossed the bottle into a recycling bin and then opened her refrigerator, grabbing two more bottles of the amber brew.

"We need to go food shopping," he said, and then he laughed, putting his hands on her hips as she leaped backward into him. "Easy, girl," he joked.

She turned and slapped him hard in the chest. "Don't do that to me!" she yelled breathlessly, her jolted heart pounding. "Jesus."

He took one of the bottles from her, unscrewed it, and drank half of it down in one long sip. When he straightened up he looked at her as he swallowed. "You left," he said, "And there was...God, one drunken kiss with Beck, that I regret to the absolute limit of..."

"You really, really, don't have to give me a play-by-play of your two weeks of bachelorhood." She cracked open her bottle and took a long, hard swig as she walked away from him.

He smirked knowingly, and he followed her back toward the couch. "That's it," he said with a shrug. That one kiss, and one...rueful night with Kathy." He plopped into the sofa beside her, and one arm fell around her shoulders. "Clearly, Kathy had more wild oats to sow than I did."

"You were holding out hope that you'd put your family back together," she said, her head tilting a bit. "Did she tell you...I mean, uh, do you know...who he is?"

He was silent as her words fell away, the quiet moment speaking volumes, and he hesitated before nodding slowly. "Yeah," he whispered, his eyes welling up with tears again. "This is really...a blessing in disguise." He let out another breath, this time it was terse and shuddering, and he inched closer to Olivia. "I didn't have the courage to leave, not when he was just a baby, but I promise you, with everything that I have...I have been emotionally...gone...for a long time. This just...this means I have a second chance. Which, if I follow my heart this time, means a first chance...with...with someone...else."

Taking another sip of her beer, she eyed him. "That girl from Immigration?"

"Still on me about that?" he said with a sniffle. "No, not her. Not...not anyone...but..." He shook his head. "Forget it, I'm a wreck right now, and it's not really the right time to bring it up."

She set her bottle down on the coffee table and took a long look at him. Every fine line on his face seemed to be etched in pure sadness tonight, and her heart broke to see it happening. Slowly, almost timidly, she reached out a hand and wiped away the single tear that had sneaked its way out of his right eye. The pad of her thumb swiped along the thin skin under his eye, her palm resting against his cheek, the rest of her fingers curling around the back of his head. "I'm so sorry," she whispered.

His bottom lip trembled again, but he held it all in, and he told her, "I love that little boy, that...that won't change, but I can't raise someone else's child. And I can't stay with someone who could lie to me...to have it be about something so...life altering...I can't..." he babbled until he fell completely at a loss for words, and he just shrugged in pure and simple confused bewilderment.

Their eyes were still locked, her hand was still cupping his face, and they were still quiet, as they both reached for their bottles. They took a simultaneous sip, and then his voice broke through the silence again. "You've never lied to me," he said, it was not a question, but a statement of fact. "You've kept shit from me, but you told me when the time came, and you've never…lied to me."

"I never will," she said to him, and something inside of her snapped. Some synapse misfired and her brain short circuited, propelling her body forward in slow-motion. Thank God his phone rang, or she would have made a huge mistake, on a night where too many had already piled up.

He smiled at her though, pressing one finger against her lips, as if telling her to hold onto the thought, onto the promise of a kiss. He held his finger lightly against her mouth as he answered his phone with a tired-sounding, "Stabler."

She closed her eyes and felt his finger moving, tracing her lips, and every ounce of strength she had worked in tandem to keep her from puckering up and placing a soft kiss to the skin of it. "What," she mumbled against his finger.

"DB on Forty-Ninth," he whispered, still listening to the caller. "You sober?"

She saw the heat in his eyes, an understanding and realization registering. "Yeah," she said, "I am now." She scooted away from him and got off the couch, heading toward the door and slipping her feet into a pair of flats, her ankles and heels still angry from their  
marathon in her boots. "You, um...are you changing?" she asked, gesturing to the less-than-professional attire he'd chosen after his shower.

"No," he said, shaking his head. He grabbed his badge, gun, and keys off of the small table by the front door. "I'm not in the mood to wear a suit. If he makes me come back and change later, fine, but for now, he can deal with my jeans and this sweatshirt." He opened the door for her, but before she could breeze by him, he grabbed her arm. "Thank you."

Looking into his eyes, she saw the pain, the disappointment, but beneath it all she saw something else. Or, at least, she thought she did. She smiled at him. "You know I'm always..." she cleared her throat, changing her mind, and she settled on, "You're welcome." She stepped out into the hallway and headed for the elevator, knowing he was locking her door and following her path. She made a mental note to have a serious conversation with Kathy, as soon as Elliot was out-of-earshot, and as soon as she could find a way to say what she needed to say without threatening the blonde.

He came up behind her, then, pressing a palm against the wall and turning his body into her. "I, uh, I never told you what I had to, so, um, when we get back, I would..."

"When we get back, we are ordering a pizza, watching a mindless, stupid movie, and you are getting some sleep, because you have just had the day from hell," she interrupted.

He laughed as he ushered her into the elevator. "Okay, so sometime between the pizza and the sleep, I really have to tell you something. It's important, okay?"

She sighed and slumped over a bit, leaning against the wood panels behind her as the doors closed. "All right," she said. "Is it heavy? I think we both had a little too much heavy, already."

"No," he chuckled. "At least, it's not heavy in a bad way. I think, uh, it's a...a good heavy." He smiled at her again, this time it almost felt honest, and not as though he was pretending to be strong or concealing his guilt, his stupidity, and his heartache. He moved first, when the elevator doors opened again, and he politely held them open and let her go first. He didn't mind, though. He enjoyed the view as he walked behind her, and for the first time in years, he didn't feel like a scumbag for it. He licked his lips and pushed the lustful thoughts about his partner to the back of his mind, unlocked his car, and opened the door for her. He made sure she was settled and then ran around to get into the driver's seat, but caught sight of the car-seat in the back. He froze, unblinking, as his heart thudded and his stomach churned.

He wasn't sure how, but he felt her beside him, felt her arms around his neck, and he heard her mumbling something to him, but his overcrowded mind wasn't registering the words. He turned and fell into her, bending and breaking under the weight of just how intensely embattled he truly was. "She...she lied to me," he whispered, his weak arms draping around Olivia. He used what little power he found to squeeze her tighter, hoping it would stave off another round of tears. A switch was flipped, then, and the anguish turned to fury, pent-up and bubbling, and he gritted his teeth as he said, "She fucking lied to me. How could she..." and he stopped, feeling Olivia's body twitch under his touch. He loosened his grip, realizing he'd been grabbing a bit too hard, and he smoothed his hands along her back and closed his eyes, breathing her in. Her scent filled his lungs, pervading his senses and calming him down almost immediately.

"What would you do," he asked her, whispering into her ear as he slowly drew circles on her back.

She backed away a bit. "What would I do...if I found out my son wasn't mine?" she asked. "Well, for starters, I'd have to check-in with a priest because that'd be one hell-of-an immaculate conception in the first place."

He laughed, tears falling quietly and slowly, and he said, "You're a firecracker, Benson."

She pulled away from him, shaking her head, and with a sigh, she said, "No, I'm just keeping you from falling. It's my job, and my honor." She slapped him on the shoulder. "I can't answer that, El," she said, moving back to the other side of the car and getting back into it. She waited until he got in and started the car. "It...it wouldn't be me," she said. "Speaking as a woman who grew up never knowing her father, I can tell you, without a doubt, that I would never lie about the paternity of any child I'd be blessed enough to have." She exhaled slowly. "But, hey, it's not me, and it's never going to be me, so my last question for you, before we get tossed into a gruesome rape and murder, is what are you gonna do?"

"What do you mean?" he asked, pulling out of the curbside parking spot and down the road. "There's nothing I can do, she didn't put my name on his birth certificate, she just...named him after...why are you grinning like that?"

"She named him after an incredible man, a wonderful father, and one fucking amazing cop, partner, and friend," Olivia told him. "He has a great name, and I, uh, I'm actually really sorry he isn't genetically linked to you, because…the world really does need another Elliot Stabler."

"Okay, I literally just calmed myself down," he said, gripping the wheel with one hand, "And you're gonna make me start all over again." He sniffled, wiped his eyes with the back of his sweatshirt sleeve, and asked, again, "What am I supposed to do?"

"Like you said," she began, "You give those divorce papers to the first lawyer we see, and then...you file for absolute joint-custody of those amazing kids, who are yours, and you get a court-order for a paternity test."

"I already know he isn't mine," Elliot sighed, his whole body tightening as he turned down a winding road.

"But, legally, you're his father," she told him. "State law, you're married, so unless you file a paternity…"

"How the hell do you know about this shit?" he asked, befuddled but amused.

She went white, but she spat out a logical answer. "The nature of the job," she said. "We're supposed to know all of the laws and regulations about this kind of…"

"And the truth would be…?" he said, cutting her off again, raising one accusatory eyebrow.

Sighing, she caved. "I researched," she admitted. "You remember when I was looking into adoption? I also, um, may have looked into…donors." She covered her face with one hand, slightly embarrassed. "I wanted to make sure there was no way for someone to walk into the kid's life and try to…look, the point is, if you wanted to, you could claim him as your child, since legally…"

"Hold on," he said, stopping her once more. "When you have kids, and you will have them, you're gonna know without a doubt who the father is, and there won't be any chance of anything like that happening to you, do you understand?"

Taken aback by his sudden possessive and protective tone, she nodded. She cleared her throat and said, "So, uh, do you…do you want me to call a judge for you?"

He bit his lip and turned onto another avenue. "I'm getting the divorce," he said. "As much as I've fallen in love with Eli…I can't…I won't raise someone else's kid. Not…not with Kathy, not after she lied to me about it. Besides, uh, his father wants to be involved in his life, so…" he nodded once. "Get a judge to order a test, and when it comes back…with his name on it…" he swallowed back hard, and bit his lip. "Then it's over."

Turning her head to look out the window, she let a small smirk form on her lips. "And then you can get revenge."

"I'm not knocking someone up," he laughed, "At least...not like that, not yet, so...no."

She laughed back at him, not noticing the light in his eyes as he heard her. "I meant...make yourself happy. That's gonna sting more than anything, if you show her that this isn't killing you. Even if...even if it is. You said it yourself, you doubted he was yours from the beginning, but I know how much you love Eli. I love him, too."

"Yeah, I know," he said, turning the corner and heading for their crime scene. "You're right, though. The marriage was over, I was just so quick to believe her because..." he parked the car and looked at her. "It was once. Just the one time. Even after...even when I was home. The last ten months...me and Kathy, we never..."

"I would rather let Edward Scissorhands give me a deep-tissue massage than let you finish that sentence," she said dryly, one hand on her door's handle.

His laugh, this time, was a full and hearty one. "Yeah, sorry," he said, getting out of the car. He walked toward her, and just as he always had, he stepped in perfect sync with her toward the yellow tape and Doctor Melinda Warner. "What've we got?" he asked, looking down at the medical examiner.

"A huge-ass problem," Warner said, looking over her shoulder and up at Olivia and Elliot. "Remember the woman Lake was working with? From that cold-case group?"

"Penelope Fielding," Olivia answered, narrowing her eyes. She let her head fall to one side as she understood. "No," she said.

Melinda nodded. "Afraid so," she said, turning toward the body behind her. "She's been out here for a while, and so have I. I had to wait for a unit to show up with a handheld AFIS, her fingerprints got a hit."

Elliot knelt down, bracing himself, and asked, "You met her. You couldn't just use your visual ID?"

Warner looked Elliot dead in the eyes, no trace of amusement or mirth. "No, Detective." She looked back at the body and sighed. "There's nothing left of her face."

 _ **Reviews are always welcome.**_

 _ **Peace and love.**_


	3. Chapter 3

**_Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction._**

"One of us needs to go talk to him," Olivia said, using her thumb to pick at the cuticles of her other fingers. She was also biting her lip and avoiding making eye contact with everyone but Elliot, her tells which gave away the fact that something was bothering her. She darted her eyes toward Fin.

"Oh, kiss my ass," Fin snapped, dismissing the silent suggestion that he be the one to bite the bullet.

Elliot shrugged. "He was your partner," he said, as if that was a deciding factor.

"Which is why I can't fucking talk to him," Fin barked. "He should've trusted me from the get-go, and he didn't, so as far as I'm concerned, man, he's only one below you on my real short shit-list."

Elliot tossed his pen onto his desk and let out a hard breath. "I'm not in the mood for your attitude today, okay? All you had to do was say you didn't want to go see him."

"Cut it out!" Olivia spoke up. "Both of you...please..." she held both palms flat and out with her wrists resting on the desk. "Stop."

Fin scoffed and made a sour face at her. "And what crawled up your ass, today, huh?"

"I had a shitty night, and an even worse morning, not that it concerns you, and this case fell into our lap, Lake's trial is coming up with a rookie ADA at the helm, Elliot and I are being called as witnesses on the first fucking day," she said fast. "Forgive me if I'm not exactly in the running for Miss Congeniality, right now."

Fin flattened his lips and looked away from her, but he didn't offer an apology. He was on the outs with Elliot for both personal and professional reasons, and Olivia was collateral damage, guilty by association. "Whatever," he mumbled.

Munch seemed to be the only level-headed one in the group at the moment. "We should look into that list of cold cases Lake and the others were handling." He rummaged through a pile of paper and thick files on his desk. "If Lake could kill someone because he was in too deep, then maybe Fielding got in over her head, too."

Elliot turned to look at the older detective. "You don't think this has anything to do with Lake?"

"How can it?" Munch said, frozen with several files halfway between his desk and his lap. "The case Lake was working is officially closed, and anyone who would've tried to hurt Lake over it is in jail." He went back to work, flipping over pages as he said, "My guess is, she threw herself into a new case, someone didn't want her digging around, and without Lake there as backup..." he waved a hand in the air.

"No," Olivia said, shaking her head. "You saw her face...or what was left of it. That is a lot of rage, and it's personal." She looked at Elliot. "I can think of a few reasons why someone would do that, and believe me, it's fucking personal."

Elliot gave her a small smile and slowly closed and opened his eyes. "Breathe," he mouthed to her, sensing her fury at Kathy bubbling to a full boil again.

She rolled her eyes and ran a hand through her wavy auburn hair. No amount of breathing would lessen the rage and absolute disgust that was festering. "Come on," she said, standing up.

He narrowed his eyes. "Where are we going?" he asked, but he was already on his feet, preparing to follow her.

"To ask Lake if he knew if Fielding was having personal problems," she said dryly, raising an eyebrow and looking at him as though he should have already known the answer. She grabbed keys off of her desk, and just as she stepped toward the door, the phone rang. Rolling her eyes, she answered it with a slightly agitated-sounding, "Special Victims..." but the voice cut her off before she could offer anything she listened, her fingers wound around the buttons on her red shirt, unraveling the threads out of agitation. She dropped her hand before any damage could done, preventing what overexposure could have been on the horizon. "Oh, my God. How far...damn. She was? Oh, Jesus, okay. Let me know as soon as you get something, would you? Thanks, Melinda." She hung up and lowered her head. "Definitely personal," she whispered.

Everyone was still, silent, staring at her. "Liv," Elliot prodded gently, trying to tell her that the people in the room needed to know what had made her so sullen.

"She was raped," she said.

"We knew that," Fin said, jerking his head back. "That's why it's our case."

Olivia looked up, her head darted toward him, and her eyes became daggers trying to pierce whatever cold and unfeeling parasite had grown over his heart. "She was pregnant," she said through gritted teeth.

That statement silenced the room again, and with flaring nostrils and welling-up eyes, Olivia left the room, without waiting for Elliot.

He turned fast and followed her out, meeting her near the elevator. "You okay?"

"Peachy," she spat at him. Instantly, though, she regretted it and gave him a soft, apologetic look. "I'm sorry about before, you know?"

He scrunched up his nose at her as the elevator doors slid open. He led her into it and pushed the button for the lobby. "You didn't do...oh, with Kathy?" he said, and then he gave a dismissive snort. "Please, I would have hung up on her, too."

"I hung up on her four times," she countered, peering at him.

"And then the fifth time you just handed me the phone, assuming I'd rather talk to her than watch you slam the damn thing down again," he said, chuckling. "Thanks, by the way, I needed a migraine."

"I couldn't stand it," she said, ignoring his attempt at a joke. "The sound of her voice made me want to throw up, and just knowing that she..."

"Hey," he said in a softer tone, grabbing her arm and pulling to get her full attention. When she looked at him and he saw the deep-set emotions in her eyes, he asked a question, which he knew was going to open a whole new can of worms. "Why are you so upset about this? I mean, really, honestly, why?"

The way he asked, his inflection on the word "why," made her believe he already knew the answer, and only needed to hear her say it. "You should be more upset than me," she said, emitting a soft snort.

"Yeah," he said nodding and widening his eyes a bit. "That's what I'm saying. If I'm...handling this...better than you, there's a reason behind it." His hand moved up her arm, and chills moved down his spine. She had shot him a look that held a lot of weight and a lot of fire in it. Immediately, he dropped his hand and blinked rapidly. "I just, yeah, you can...you can tell me later."

She sighed and looked away from him, but bumped against him when the elevator came to a jerky stop. The intense heat that consumed her as she brushed against his body was verging on overwhelming, and as soon as the doors slid open, she ran into the lobby. "I called Judge Taylor, I figured you'd want someone in a different district."

"What? What did you say? What did you tell him?" he asked frantically, but he stopped as his hand pressed against the glass of the front door. He realized there was shame in this, embarrassment, feelings he often refuted with his arrogant nature and confident stride. His head hung a bit lower as he pushed on the door and held it open for Olivia.

"I didn't get too personal," she said. "I just told him to call you as soon as possible, it was a matter for Family Court, and his discretion would be appreciated." She turned to look at him and the fire in her eyes had gone smokey. "I know this is fucking shitty, and I know it's humiliating. The betrayal, the manipulation...I know you don't want anyone else to know, at least right now...so you give the judge the details. I just called him for you, like I said I would." She shook her head a bit. "I know you, Elliot. I thought, by now, you'd know me a bit better than you do."

He watched her turn and walk away, and with a defeated sigh, he ran after her. "Hey!" he called, hoping she'd wait up, or stop. "I do, okay? I do...know you." He reached her and shrugged, the thick grey fabric of his hoodie bunching around his neck. "I panicked, and I have no idea why. The reality of this whole thing...it hasn't hit me yet, and I'm sorry I snapped, or made you feel like I was angry when I'm honestly nothing but grateful."

She blinked once, but nodded. She flicked the hair out of her eyes, pulled down the hem of her shirt, and smoothed her hands over the thighs of her black slacks. "You want to show me how thankful you are, you talk to the son-of-a-bitch when we get there, I'm not in the mood, and I won't exactly be nice to him."

He chuckled and opened the car door for her. "You got it," he said, and he watched with a brighter expression on his face as she got into the passenger seat.

She sighed when he closed the door. The truth was, she couldn't talk to Lake, not because she was in a foul mood, but because she already had one unpleasant conversation running through her head: the one she needed to have with Kathy, and how she could actually have it without Elliot knowing.

 _ **Reviews are always welcome.**_

 _ **Peace and love.**_


	4. Chapter 4

**_Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction._**

"Damn it, Olivia," Elliot snapped, angrily tapping the call button on his phone again. He ran a hand down his face as he heard the ringing in his ear, and for the fifth time, an outgoing voicemail message. He growled under his breath and shoved the phone in his pocket. "Where the hell is she?" he asked himself, folding his arms and leaning up against the side of a black and white squad car. The flashing swirls of red and blue made his eyes hurt, but he was too pissed off to care. He checked his watch, huffed and curse gruffly, and whipped his phone out again. He was in the middle of dialing her number one more time, when a yellow cab pulled up to the curb. His eyes widened when he saw her get out of the taxi, and he ran over to her with a fierce expression on his face. "Where the fuck have you been? You didn't answer my texts! I called four times! Do you know how fucking..."

"Please," Olivia said with closed eyes, holding up one hand. "Don't, okay? I just had...the worst lunch break of my entire life." She stared off into an empty space for a moment and shuddered. "Even worse than that time in sixth grade when I ate lunch in the janitor's closet."

He squinted. "Yeah, we're talking about that later," he said, licking his lips. "Where the hell were you?" He paled as he looked her over, eyed her up and down. "Were you...were you on a date?"

"Ha!" she scoffed. "No. Definitely not. I just had something I needed to do, without you. That's all." She pulled a latex glove out of her pocket and shoved her right hand into it. "What have we got, here?"

"You...you don't do anything without me," he said, sounding hurt. "What did you..." he stopped, he saw the look on her face, the mix of guilt, anger, and pride in her eyes. "You were with Kathy, weren't you? What the hell! What did you say to her? You didn't hit her, did you?"

"Thought about it," she mumbled, crawling under the yellow crime-scene tape. "Don't worry about what I said, she deserved every fucking bit of it."

He caught her tone, understood a deeper meaning, and he grabbed her arm before she could get too far away from him and into the case. He moved closer to her and looked into her eyes. "Wait, then what did she say to you?"

She swallowed back hard and shook her head. "Forget it," she told him. "I'm trying to."

"No, what the hell did she say to you?" he asked a bit louder, more severe.

She took a breath and closed her eyes for a moment, and as she exhaled she said, "Nothing. We had a cup of coffee and a couple of burritos, and I gave her a piece of my mind. You know, it was all very civil."

"Bullshit," he said, frowning a bit.

She rolled her eyes. "It's fucking scary how well you know me," she said, half to herself. "After the coffee, she accused me of...you and me...she thought..." she blinked. "She told me I was being a bit hypocritical, since I was fucking you behind her back...and then she said she thought you honestly wouldn't give a shit if she had an affair because you were having one." There was a long pause, the vein in her neck throbbed and she snorted in irritation. "Then, she threw a tortilla chip at me."

"She said that?" he said with a bitter laugh. "I got that same exact shit, every night, for years. She's always been jealous of you, of my relationship with you."

"Yeah, well, after she called me a home-wrecking slut, I told her there was no relationship," she countered, narrowing her eyes and pulling her arm out of his hand. "There isn't, we're just partners. I told her you were nothing but faithful to her, even when you didn't have to be, and I told her...wow, I guess I was really loud. I'm probably never allowed in that Chipotle ever again," she shook the errant thoughts away and spoke again, leaving out exact words and specifics. "I told her she didn't realize what she was giving up. Then...I asked why."

He bit his lip and folded his arms. "Why what?"

"Why she lied to you. About everything." She combed her hair back with her nails. "She said...she really did realize what she was losing, what she'd already lost. She knew she made a mistake, but she...she thought if you never found out Eli wasn't your son, then you'd stay with her, and it would make you..." she rolled her eyes, both in disgusted loathing and an attempt to keep from crying. "She thought you'd fall in love with her all over again, and stay." She shrugged. "She said it almost worked, but his real father called her, threatened to sue...she knew she had to tell you."

He blinked, only once, and then he asked, "She called you a slut?"

Olivia gave him a blank and nonplussed stare. "Really? All of that, and that's your takeaway?"

He licked his lips and shook his head again. "No, I'm just...she called you a slut, and you didn't hit her?" He smirked. "You, uh...you lied to her."

She froze. She didn't tell him anything about the full-blown, ten-minute battle of blows where she got far too emotional, firmly denied having feelings for Elliot, called Kathy a lunatic, and almost arrested her for assaulting an officer. "What?"

He smiled at her, the smirk softening and warming. "We are not just partners. We never have been, and we never will be." A moment of silence passed, and then he said, "She had no right to treat you like that. I can't believe she called you a..."

"Don't say it again," she begged, both hands with palms out facing him. "I just really don't..."

"What aren't you telling me?" he asked, his voice low and his expression dark. "What else did she say to you? I mean, usually if someone calls you a bitch, we laugh about how you kind of are sometimes and imagine horrible things happening to them, you know? You shrug it off, we laugh about it, so what gives? Something got to you."

She shot him a sharp-eyed look and turned her back on him, walking toward the medical examiner. "What have we got?" she called, ignoring Elliot's attempts to tug on her shirt and jacket, swatting him away.

Melinda looked over her shoulder. "First, tell me what Hot-Head Harry over there said to Detective Lake." She jutted her chin toward Elliot, but aimed the order at Olivia.

Elliot rolled his eyes. "I asked him a few simple questions, he gave me a few simple answers. And what's with the name-calling? I can technically arrest you for that."

Melinda gave an unamused and low expression. "I got an angry phone call, demanding I tell him how Fielding was killed, and he volunteered DNA."

Olivia tilted her head in confusion."We know he isn't a suspect, we told him he wasn't even on the..."

"He wants me to compare his DNA to the fetus," Melinda interrupted. "He's sure he's the father."

There was a terse moment, all three were quiet, looking at a patch of grass and not each other, until Elliot's voice broke the silence. "Damn."

Olivia felt a pang of sympathy and sorrow, and brushed the back of her hand discreetly against his arm. "Okay, well, yeah," she said, sighing and straightening up. "Makes sense. They were close."

Melinda grinned. "Not as close as you two, and unless there's something you're not telling me, he hasn't knocked you up." She laughed at her own chiding and then threw a thumb in the direction of the body at her feet. "Same guy," she said. "Mutilated her face, she was raped, but this woman isn't in the system." She looked back up at Olivia. "Officially, right now, she's a Jane Doe."

"Shit," Elliot breathed, running his hand across his forehead. "No, she's not." He turned to Olivia. "Look at the tattoo on her arm."

Her eyes shot to where Elliot pointed, and it took her a moment to realize. When she did, though, she gasped. "That's Cecilia Cruz, the girl Lake was trying to protect." She screwed her eyes shut for a moment. "I thought Immigration took her in."

"Are you sure?" Melinda asked, stunned.

Olivia and Elliot looked at each other and then nodded. "She told me the story," Olivia said, pointing to the small butterfly tattoo on the victim's arm. "She got that tat in memory of Alisa." She looked up and around, and then back at Elliot. "What the hell is going on here?"

"Someone's tying up loose ends," he told her. "Tell us everything you can, as soon as you can, huh?" he shouted to Warner, and then he grabbed Olivia's elbow and pulled her back toward the row of police cars. "We need to back off this case," he whispered to her.

"Are you high?" she cracked, ripping his arm from him and staring at him with wide eyes. "If anything, El, we are the only ones who can handle it!" She ran a hand through her hair. "Fin's not in the right state of mind for it, he's still processing his transfer, even though we tried to talk him out of it. Munch can't..."

"Liv," he said, stopping her, both of his hands on her shoulders keeping her still. He looked serious, almost domineering. "We stepped into some shit, here, and whoever is behind this...is going to be after us next. If you think I'm gonna let you work a case that's gonna get you killed..."

"Whoa, let me?" she interrupted, tilting her head just a bit, her lips pulling into an aporetic grin. "You don't have let me do my job, Elliot!"

He rolled his eyes. "Okay, not what I meant, but...until we know..."

"We don't know," she said. "Three people are dead, one of whom...never even got the chance to live. I'm not backing off, I'm nailing the son-of-a-bitch." There were tears in her eyes and she didn't really understand why.

He noticed, and his thumbs swooped up and brushed the thin skin under her eyes. "Hey," he barely breathed. He looked at her for a moment, watched her regain full composure, and he sighed. "Okay. We'll get the bastard." His voice fell a bit more, lower and softer. "I'm not going to let anything happen to you."

The way he was looking at her, seeming to bore into her soul through her eyes, gave her chills and made her believe there were more emotions beneath his eyes than there were. Her heart stopped when he moved, because for a moment, she thought he was going to kiss her. "We should...go."

He nodded and opened the door to the burgundy car for her. He made sure she was settled and then closed her in, looked up at the darkening sky, and slapped an open palm against the center of his head. "Idiot," he mumbled to himself. He shook his head and brushed off the slight embarrassment, and then got in the driver's seat. He stuck the key in the ignition, turned it, and shifted the car into reverse. "We're good," he said, blinking once. "We got this."

She laughed softly, shaking her head at him, silently thanking him for breaking the tension. "Who do you think is..."

"If her prints didn't come up in the system," Elliot interrupted, "Then it wasn't Immigration who took her into their custody."

Olivia stared blankly at him. "WitPro."

Elliot nodded and poked the inside of his cheek with his tongue. "And there's still one person, one we didn't toss in the clink, whose life was ruined by this whole fucked up situation," he said, raising one eyebrow. "And she's got a lot of rage, enough to tear off a couple of faces."

"You think it's Kralik's wife," she said, not a question at all, but a firm statement. She watched him lick his lips, smirk at her, and nod once. It was all the answer she needed.

 _ **Peace and Love**_

 _ **Jo**_


	5. Chapter 5

_**Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction.**_

 _"I'm not convinced," Elliot said, folding his arms. He leaned back against his desk, tilted his head, and looked at Detective Munch, who'd been arguing with him for the last ten minutes about who else could and should be on their list of suspects. "I'm telling you, his wife would be the one with the most anger, the most…"_

 _"His wife," Fin interrupted with a scoff. "You sure you're not just going after his wife because you're pissed off at yours?"_

 _Elliot's eyes narrowed. "You know damn well I don't let my personal problems affect…"_

 _"Please, don't even try to finish that sentence with a straight face," Fin retorted. He shook his head and tossed his pencil down onto his desk. "Really wish One-P-P would get its shit right and file my transfer already. I don't know how much more of your hypocritical bullshit I can take."_

 _Olivia huffed and combed her fingers through her hair. "He apologized, okay? He was doing his job! Granted, he went about it the wrong way, but if it was any other person-of-interest…"_

 _"I'm not!" Fin yelled. "Professional courtesy! Or, fuck, man, even as a friend…it didn't need to go down like that!"_

 _"Enough!" Cragen boomed, coming out of his office and stomping over to the center of the room. "Until another spot opens up in another department, or someone with a deathwish and a strong stomach volunteers for this unit, you're stuck here! You need to do your job! Get me?"_

 _Fin stared vilely at Cragen for a moment. "Yeah," he breathed harshly. "I get you."_

 _Cragen nodded once at him. "Start by taking this to Lake," he said, handing a sealed brown envelope to Fin. "It'll be easier to handle coming from you."_

 _"What is it?" Fin asked, staring at the thing as though it would bite him if he made any sudden moves._

 _Cragen's look softened and he took a deep breath. "Results from Warner." He looked at Olivia and then at Elliot, and then turned back to Fin. "He's gonna need a friend when he opens that."_

 _"Shit," Fin hissed, making a pained face and tossing his head back. "This'll kill him."_

 _"No matter what it says," Elliot said softly, "It'll kill him." He brought his left hand, ringless and cold, to his face and squeezed the bridge of his nose._

 _Olivia reached up and rested a hand on his shoulder, giving it one hard squeeze before dropping her hand back to her side. She wished more than anything she could take his pain away, make the entire situation disappear. She tugged lightly on the hem of her sweater, cleared her throat, and looked at Fin. "Tell him we're sorry."_

 _"Sorry from the two of you doesn't mean much," Fin said to her, and then he looked at the envelope in his hands. He slapped it against his lap and finally got out of his seat, heading out of the room without looking at anyone, or saying goodbye._

 _With another deep breath, Elliot crossed his arms again. He looked at his captain. "Do you want me and Liv to…"_

 _"I want my squad to get back to fucking normal around here," Cragen interrupted. "I have one detective that doesn't trust anyone anymore, two that can't keep their damn hands and eyes off each other, and one that thinks the government orchestrated this entire fucking thing, so what I want, Elliot, is an explanation. Now."_

 _Elliot raised one eyebrow. "I was following protocol. I knew if I asked Fin, then he'd tip off…"_

 _"Not about that," Cragen spat, holding up a hand. "I got all ten sides of that story. Explain to me…why your wife called here about half an hour ago, crying and asking me to tell you she set up a meeting with Judge Taylor, now if you're going through something that's going to affect how you handle this case, then I…"_

 _"It's not," Elliot said, shaking his head, though his lip was caught between his teeth. "It won't. I just…look, Liv knows, and right now, she's the only one that does. My kids don't even know yet, so I'm not…"_

 _"Excuse me," a midtoned voice called into the room, the clicking of heels bringing the speaker closer to the group. "I'm assuming this is Special Victims? I'm supposed to talk to Captain Cragen," she said, looking around. Her gaze landed on Munch. "You?" she questioned, pointing at him._

 _"No," Munch said flatly. He mimicked her pointing, only toward Cragen. "Him."_

 _"Oh," the woman said, turning her head. "Sorry." She held out her hand. "Kim Greylek, I'm the ADA taking over for Casey Novak. I need everything you've got on the Lake and Closterman cases."_

 _Cragen took a breath, let it out slowly through lightly flaring nostrils, and said, "My office is this way." He shot a look at Elliot and Olivia before he led Greylek toward his door. "Go talk to Kralik's wife," he said. "That's what you wanted to do, right?"_

 _Elliot straightened up and stiffened, grabbed his keys, and walked out of the squad room, knowing Olivia was right behind him. "Is that why you met Kathy?" he asked, storming down the hall. He didn't even look over his shoulder at her. "To tell her to call the lawyer?"_

 _"Don't do this, okay?" she almost begged, her voice tired, her eyes closed. She raked her hand through her hair again. "I already told you what happened, and what she said…"_

 _"Bullshit," he said, cutting her off as he punched the button for the elevator. He turned to her sharply with narrow eyes. "You told me half the story, so cut the shit! Just tell me what she said to you! I can't possibly resent her anymore than I do already, so if you're protecting her…"_

 _"We have work to do, Elliot!" she shouted back. The metal doors opened and she pushed him through, waited until the doors closed behind her, and let out a harsh, fast sigh. "I'm not protecting her." She gnawed on the inside of her lower lip, tapping her foot, trying to prolong saying anything else, hoping that somehow the elevator would go faster. "I'm protecting you," she almost whispered._

 _"What?" His voice was the same soft tone, but much harsher, almost irritated._

"You really think I would keep anything from you, for any other reason?" she asked, her eyes narrowed. She rolled them, then, and exhaled sharply. "I know you, I know your temper, and if you knew..." she scoffed at herself. "Look, what she said to me doesn't matter. I told her to talk to the lawyer, voluntarily, or you'd drag her into court and make it as difficult for her as possible. She did, you're getting your..."

"Olivia," he said, grabbing her shoulders. "Tell me. Right now." He looked into her eyes, as seriously as he could possibly, and he bit his lip to keep from making a sudden and stupid move.

She blinked once. "It doesn't matter."

"You said you were protecting me, I don't need that, right now. I need to know what she said to you." He ignored the ding of the elevator and hit the emergency button, and then gave her a stern glance. Gritting his teeth, he said, "What I need, is for you to tell me what she said."

"She said that she's surprised it took you this long to realize something was wrong, that this wasn't the first time she..." she stopped, her voice breaking and unwilling to let the words go. "She's cheated on you before, El. This wasn't the first time."

He sucked in a breath and pressed his lips together. "You were protecting me," he said, acknowledging the truth in that. "Is that it?"

"Well, she brought up my lack of children, shitty childhood, and unhealthy attachment to you, but it was nothing I couldn't handle." She tried to smile. She reached for the button to get out of the seemingly-tight metal box, and she looked at him. "I wanted to hit her, but I just...couldn't." She slapped her palm against the red button and the doors opened. She stepped out and yanked once again on the hem of her sweater, the blue cotton beginning to pill and pull.

"Hey," he said, grabbing her arm and turning her around. He looked into her stunned, waiting eyes, watched her lips curl at the corners, and felt his entire body react to her in ways he'd tried to hide for so long. He pulled a bit harder and wrapped his arms around her, something he'd done when she saved Eli's life. When she saved Kathy's life. Now, it because she had saved his. "We need to talk," he whispered to her, and lightly, so softly it felt as though it didn't happen at all, he kissed her cheek.

She gasped, pulling away, and stared at him for a moment, wondering if it was her imagination. "Okay," she mumbled, knowing nothing good ever came from a conversation that began with the words, 'we need to talk.' She gave him another unsure and hesitant smile, and blinked as she turned around. She bumped into someone, though, and immediately offered a quick apology.

"It's okay, Liv," the voice said, but it didn't sound happy.

Olivia looked up and squinted. "Casey, what are you doing down here?"

Casey bit her lip and looked at Elliot cautiously before turning back to her. "I wanted to talk to you. It's kind of important." She took such a deep breath her chest heaved and her shoulders rolled.

"Oh, Case," Olivia sighed, "We're on our way to..."

"It's about Lake," Casey interrupted. She saw Olivia freeze. "Trust me, you need to know."

Olivia looked at Elliot, and seeing him nod, she said, "Okay. Come on."

Casey moved first, with Olivia and Elliot falling together, in sync, behind her. "What do you think she's got?" he asked in a whisper.

"No idea," Olivia returned, "But it better be good. We need all the help we can get with this one."

"Trust me," Casey said, pushing the glass doors open. She turned, a gleam in her eyes, telling them she could hear them. "It's pretty damn good."

 _ **Peace and Love**_

 _ **Jo**_

 _ **MarchCommaJo on Twitter**_


	6. Chapter 6

**_Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction._**

"Are you sure about this?" Elliot asked, his think middle finger swirling along the rim of his glass. The soda was gone, leaving only the ice, melting into a pool of mucky-looking water. "This isn't just an attempt to work this case from the back end, or con us into helping you get your job back, is it, Novak?"

Casey stared at him, a glare almost as cold as the ice in his cup. "No," she spat. She turned her attention toward Olivia. "I'm telling you this because this son-of-a-bitch and his personal vendetta cost me my career, and if you can get solid evidence..."

"You mean, evidence that the new ADA can't fuck up for us?" Elliot said with a smirk, reaching for Olivia's drink and taking a sip.

Olivia, in turn, elbowed him in the chest, too hard to be merely playful, not hard enough to hurt. She shook her head disdainfully at him and then looked at Casey. "How did you find this out?"

"I dug," she said with a shrug. "The night Donnelly told me I was going in front of the bar, I thought...if I just got something solid...on someone...it would change things." Her hands wrapped around her half-empty whisky sour, lifted it to her lips, but before she took a sip, she said, "Blind faith."

"Yeah, well, you'll learn to quickly that sometimes blind faith is just hopeless stupidity," Elliot said, almost a mumble, as he exhaled harshly.

Under the table, Olivia rested a hand on his knee, consoling him as he bemoaned the loss of his child, his wife, and his faith, all at once. She cleared her throat and began to pull her hand back, but froze, feeling his larger, cooler, rougher hand slap over hers. She looked at him quizzically.

He eyed her for a moment before shaking his head a bit, biting his lip, as close as he'd come to begging her to keep her hand right where it was. To punctuate, he worked his fingers between hers and squeezed.

She nodded once at him, cleared her throat again, and looked back at Casey. "How did you find this out? I don't want to hand this to the ADA and have it come back to bite me in the ass if it's inadmiss..."

"You're getting the information from a civilian, an anonymous tip that's going to check out," Casey interrupted. "The information is enough to get you a warrant, and I swear, I'm telling you the truth, all you have to do is search Fielding's apartment. It's there."

Elliot squinted as he moved closer to the table, closer to Olivia. "Where did you meet her, and what else did she say to you?"

"She told me this wasn't the only case they were working on, and that Lake always had a 'Plan B," Casey said, and she sighed and rubbed her eyes before finally gulping sown the last of her drink. "He wrote it all down in a notepad, Fielding kept it at her place, but she didn't tell me where."

Elliot pulled his hand away from Olivia's and took hold of her glass. He finished her soda in one, long sip, slammed the cup down on the table, and pointed a threatening finger at Casey. "If this turns up bupkiss and you sent us on a wild goose chase..."

"Stabler," Casey interrupted a bit louder. "I'm trying to save what's left of my reputation! I'm out for blood, and a little revenge, I am telling you the truth!"

The desperation in her eyes was clear, Elliot couldn't deny or ignore it. He nodded at her and then he stood up and pulled at the cuffs of his shirt. "Thank you," he said, and then he grinned. "And thanks for dinner."

Casey chuckled, but it more bitter and dismissive than cheerful. "No problem," she said, shaking her head in disbelief as she watched Elliot walk away. She turned to Olivia, who was getting out of her seat, and asked, "How the hell do you put up with him?"

"I ask myself that every single day," Olivia joked. She smiled at her friend, mouthed a silent 'Thank you,' and ran off to find where her partner had gone. When she finally caught up to him, just outside the cafe, she crossed her arms over her chest and narrowed her eyes at him. "You okay?" she asked. "If you need a personal day or two, it's completely under..."

"I just need you," he sighed, closing his eyes. He took a deep breath and when he exhaled he looked at her. "Back there, if I made you uncomfortable...I mean, I wasn't making a move on you, I just needed..."

"I know," she said, cutting him off this time. "I know, you just...caught me off guard." She let out a small chuckle. "I'm not used to being the one of us that...I mean, you've always been the more stable, strong..."

"Ha!" he guffawed, again cutting into her words. "That's bullshit," he said. "You know I'm not...I wasn't..." he paused, looked at her for a moment, and a smile spread across his face. "You keep me grounded, so I don't think you ever realized how fully fucked up I am."

She saw the seriousness in his eyes, the pain and the worry, the fear and the plea for help. "Well," she said with a shrug, "You're staying with me, so I guess...I'm about to find out, huh?" She winked at him and gave him a nudge.

Laughing, he rested a soft hand on her lower back and guided her down the street toward the precinct. "Let's go find, uh, what's her name?"

"Greylek," she answered, rolling her eyes.

"Right," he said, licking his lips and grinning. "Let's go tell her she's got a job to do, shall we?"

She nodded, and they walked in silence for a minute or two. She looked down at her feet, gnawing on her lip, as if contemplating even asking the question forming on her tongue. "Did you...before we ran into Casey, I could have sworn that you..." she turned her head, slowly, raised one brow, and finished her sentence. "Kissed me."

He paled, he could feel his heart racing, his blood starting to burn and boil in his veins. "Um, well, I..." he pressed his lips together. "Yeah. Okay, yeah. I kissed your, uh, your cheek, there," he rattled off, awkwardly pointing a finger at her face. "I just was...it didn't mean...well, no, fuck, yeah, it meant something, but..."

"Hey," she said, stopping in her tracks and grabbing his arm. "Breathe," she laughed. "You don't need to explain anything, I just...I had to ask, because I thought...maybe it was just was my...imagination."

He was silent as his face twisted int a sly, smug, smirk. "You, uh, you imagine me kissing you often, Benson?" He ran his hands up her arms, back down, and let them cup her elbows.

She rolled her eyes again, laughing softly. "That ego should have its own zipcode," she said, and then she looked at him. Something different was in his eyes this time. The pain and anger, though still there, were now deeply hidden behind a brightness she wasn't used to seeing, and her heart stopped when the realization of what it meant fully hit her. She looked away from him and took a few fast steps. "We need to get back to work, before someone else ends up dead. And if Casey's right, if Kralik's murder was premeditated, and Crane's was Lake's 'Plan B,' then we have a whole new can of worms to open up, and Cragen won't..."

"Liv," Elliot called, stopping her words yet again. He kept his eyes on her, watching as she turned to him and looked at him expectantly. He took the three steps to meet her, standing with her in front of the station. He raised a hand and brushed her hair out of her eyes. He moved, just another inch, his hot blood rushing and his heart ready to explode. He was a hair away from her lips. He felt her tense, heard her breathy gasp, and he was about to finally meet her trembling mouth, but something shifted and he moved fast, whispering something in her ear.

She stood up straight and turned her head, in time to see Cragen heading toward them. "Where the hell have you two..."

"We went to talk to Kralik's wife," Elliot lied, stone-faced, shoving his hands in his pockets and trying to slow his breathing. "She wasn't home."

"No," Cragen said, holding out a folding piece of paper. "She's in the park."

Elliot looked at Cragen confused, but then opened the paper. "Oh, you have got to be fucking kidding me," he said bitterly, handing the paper to Olivia. He looked at her. "Wait here, I'll run in and tell Greylek what we found out, and then we'll go."

Olivia nodded, reading the hand-scrawled incident notice, shaking her head. "How...I mean, Elliot thought she..."

"What is he talking to Grelek about?" Cragen said, jutting a thumb behind him and ignoring Olivia's confused babbling.

With a quick shake of her head, Olivia folded the notice and put it in her pocket. "We got an anonymous tip, uh, while we were trying to find Kralik's wife. Someone spoke to Fielding, something about a notebook where she and Lake wrote out their plans. Kralik's death wasn't an accident, neither was Crane's. And now, it looks like the person who planned it all is tying up loose ends."

"Well you and Elliot are on this, I'll send Fin and Munch to look for this, uh, you said it was a notebook?" Cragen squinted at her.

She nodded. "That's what we were told." She turned her head, seeing Elliot heading back toward them. "That new ADA is a piece of fucking work," he said, running a hand over his t-shirt, shaking his head. "After she berated me for a solid minute she spilled her coffee all over me, I had to take off my sweatshirt, but after the yelling and flailing, she said she'd call in a favor and get us the warrant for..."

"Elliot," Cragen said, narrowing his eyes, "A word?"

Elliot looked at Olivia, concerned, and then looked at Cragen. "Yeah, sure," he said, and followed his captain over to a spot on the sidewalk a few feet away. "What's up, Cap?"

"That's what I was going to ask you," Cragen said. "I was waiting for you two, that's why I ran out here when I saw you heading in. I know you're going through something at home, but it can not follow you to work, am I clear?"

"I already told you it wouldn't," Elliot said. "It's not going to affect anything about my job, or..."

"It already has," Cragen said, slapping a hand on Elliot's shoulder. "Your son was here, looking for you."

Elliot blinked before he widened his eyes, fatherly panic setting in. "Dickie? What? Why? What happened?"

"Relax," Cragen said, "He's fine, he just said he needed to talk to you. I told him you were out, and then he said...he said he'd wait for you at Olivia's." He tilted his head. "You're staying at Olivia's?"

Elliot bit his lip and nodded. "On the couch," he said. "I'm not...I can't be in the house right now."

Cragen sighed. "Well, you two go get what you can from Warner, and then go see what he needs." He dropped his hand from Elliot's shoulder. "You go. She needs to be back here, working. You get me?"

Elliot nodded. "Yeah," he said. "Thanks, Cap." He turned away from Cragen and as soon as he was close enough to her, he grabbed Olivia's arm and pulled her faster toward the car. He wanted to get to Central Park, get what he needed from the Medical Examiner, and get to his son. Something was wrong, very wrong. He could feel it. He looked at Olivia and as he opened the door for her, he asked, "I'll drop you off at the park, run to get us a couple of coffees, and meet you back there in a few, all right?"

She was a little skeptical but not surprised. She had incredible hearing. "No problem," she said, buckling her seat belt. She waited until he got behind the wheel and said, "If Dickie needs a place to sleep tonight, I only have one couch, so, uh, unless you want to sleep in the bathtub, we'll have to figure something else out." She eyed him for a moment, and then looked out the window, grinning. "Thank God you don't snore."

He was flummoxed. Absolutely floored. He shook his head and laughed as he started the car. "Thanks," he said, and he drove off, a thousand questions in his head with only one answer.

Olivia.

 _ **Peace and love.**_

 _ **Jo**_


	7. Chapter 7

**_Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction._**

"How is he?" she asked, but she wasn't looking at him. She was sitting on a chair near an antique vanity, the only thing of value she'd kept from her mother's house after her death. She was in the middle of brushing her hair when he walked into the bedroom.

"Sleeping now, but he's upset," he replied, taking a few steps toward her. Slowly, he moved his hands to her neck, and without warning he snatched the brush from her and began to work it through the ends of her hair. "He wanted to know if I knew...about her affair, and then he asked me...um, he asked if I...if, uh...if we..."

She caught his eyes in the mirror, her head tilting as she did. "He asked you? You told him the truth, right?"

"I told him I thought about it," he said with a shrug. "But nothing ever happened. I was faithful, even when...well, I guess I didn't have to be." He put the brush down on the vanity and held out his hand, open palm up.

Knowing what he wanted, she dropped a black hair elastic into his hand and smiled as she felt his fingers scoop her hair up and loop it through. "Nice," she said with a light chuckle.

"I have daughters," he said with a laugh of his own. He gave her ponytail a playful flick and sat on the edge of the bed, watching her body shift as she turned around in her chair to face him. "What am I gonna do?"

Her eyes turned downward, sadly but not pitifully. "You're going to get through this," she said, sounding so sure. "Obviously, your relationship with her ran its course, it was never...it was never meant to last beyond...what it was." She bit her lip and moved closer to him, one hand resting on his thick thigh. She sucked in a breath as she felt the muscle twitch beneath the grey cotton of his sweatpants. "This is going to sound so heartless, but...I'm glad this happened now. That you found out now, instead of years down the road when it would be harder to deal with."

He nodded. "No, you're right. You're absolutely right." He blinked once and his ringless left hand fell over hers. "That's exactly what Dickie said," he told her, accompanied by a scoffing laugh. "When did he grow up?"

"When you weren't looking," she joked. She tried to pull her hand away so she could stand up, but he clutched it tightly. She shot him a questioning look, but as the tears welled up in his eyes, she understood. Keeping her hand beneath his, she crawled from her chair to the bed and let him fall into her, let him cry the way he'd needed to for hours. When his harsh sobs quieted, and she felt his body stop shaking, she gave him a gentle push and looked into his eyes again. "Better?"

He nodded as he wiped his red, pained eyes and licked his lips. "God, I needed that," he laughed. He pointed a finger at her and said, "Never, ever, tell me I'm the stable one again."

She laughed with him and scooted over to what she had only just decided would be "her side" of the bed. "Do I need to warn you about crossing any lines, here?" she questioned with a crooked eyebrow and half-mouth smirk.

"Well, you could," he said, settling in under the black and silver comforter beside her. "Doesn't mean I'll listen." He winked at her and reached over to turn off the lamp on the side table. "I didn't lie to him," he whispered into the dark, his head flopping back onto the pillow that smelled like her. He turned his head in hopes of seeing her face, but the moonlight filtering in only hit her neck and chest.

"What?" she asked, mimicking his actions, trying in vain to search out his features in the dark.

"When I told him...that I thought about having an affair," he began, "With you. God, thought about it, dreamed about it, fantasized...planned...does that sound ridiculous or what?"

She felt his hand feeling around, inching over her skin. She gasped when he grabbed a particularly sensitive area and her hand shot to his. "What, exactly, are you looking for?"

He laughed smugly, knowing the bit of flesh he just fondled, albeit accidentally, was now just as awake as certain parts of his anatomy. He linked his fingers with hers and said, "This." He took a long, deep, slow breath and said, "I told you I thought we needed to talk."

"Is now really the best time?" she asked, her voice dry and harsh.

"Absolutely," he said, tugging on her hand and moving, bringing them closer to each other. "I don't want to regret not doing something about this, the way I regret...not doing something about it before." He found her face with his lips, brushing them across her cheek. He whispered into her ear, "None of this would be happening...this could have been avoided if I had just listened to my heart and gone home with you that night." He gave a short laugh, his hot breath filtering into her ear and making her shiver, and then he said, "Who knows? We may have even had..."

A shrill ring kept him from finishing his thought.

"Damn it," he spat, but before he rolled over to find what had become of his phone, he kissed her cheek the way he'd done earlier that day. "To be continued," he promised, and he sat up fast.

She finally took a breath, her lungs hurt from lack of oxygen. He'd had her frozen, and she was still trying to wrap her head around what he had said, what he'd implied. Her phone went off, snapping her out of her dazed confusion, and she leaned over the edge of the bed to grab it off the end table. She lifted it to her ear as she tapped the green button. "Benson," she said, and her head turned in the direction of Elliot. "Yeah, we'll be right...okay, then, um, I'll be right there. No problem."She hung up and cringed when he turned on the light.

"I don't like this," he said, waving his phone at her. He bent down to rummage through a duffel bag to find clean clothes. "I don't fucking like this shit at all." He pulled out a blue tee shirt and jeans and unabashedly dropped his sweatpants to his ankles and kicked out of them, his fury taking precedence over his humility. "Who the fuck does he think he is? He's pissed at me, so he has to get Cragen to split us up? You're my partner, and that little piss ant..."

"Elliot," she interrupted coolly, her eyes fixed on his bare, heaving chest.

He tugged the tee over his head, put his arms through, and smoothed it out, huffing. "I know, I know, it happens." He rolled his eyes. "He has his own partner," he said, pouting.

Now standing and heading for her closet, she shook her head at him. "You sound like a four-year-old." She brushed by him to open the closet door and as she stood in decision, choosing an outfit, she felt his arms wrap around her waist. Part of her wanted to push him away, fight him off, but a much bigger, stronger part of her loved how she fit so perfectly in his hold, how she felt so at home, so safe. Against her better judgement, she leaned backward into him. "What are you doing?"

"Taking chances," he said with a shrug, his head resting in the bend of her neck. "I need you, to keep my from falling here. And I know...I know you need me to do the same for you." He felt her stiffen and he tightened his grip. "Hey, hey," he said fast, "Don't do that with me. I know what's going on with you, what's been...what's been eating you."

"Enlighten me," she said dryly.

He looked at her, silent for a moment, and he reached up to brush her hair back. "I told you, a long time ago, I would help you, you know. I meant it. Anyway you wanted..."

"Thanks," she said sharply, angrily pulling a shirt off of a hanger. "So this has all just been, what, you offering your services? You lose your kid so you figure you'll just make another one?"

"Whoa, hold on!" he yelled. "Do you really think that's all I'm after?"

"What do you expect me to think?" she spat back, and taking a page out of his book, she changed, right in front of him, with no shame. It wasn't until she saw his dropped jaw and slight pallor she even realized she wasn't wearing a bra.

Without a sound, he lunged, wrapping her in his arms again, but this time those wandering hands knew exactly where to land. He palmed her breasts as he kissed her and they fell into the closet, tangling between hangers, sending pants and tops and dresses flying. There were gasps and moans, clutching hands and desperate tongues. Fistfuls of hair and clawing nails, curses and grunts, and finally a mutually drawn conclusion. They parted, panting and breathless, their foreheads touching.

"Fuck," he spat on a hard breath. "You know I would never..."

"Yeah," she interrupted, "I know." She licked her lips and tried to slow her racing heart. She moved away from him, pulling open a drawer and grabbing the first bra she saw. She put it on fast, rushed to pull on her shirt, and tugged on a clean pair of slacks. "So, uh, you still think we need to talk?"

"Hell yeah," he said, wide-eyed. "That's not...I mean that wasn't how I wanted..." he took a step toward her. "All I wanted to talk about was the possibility of us...happening...when things settled down. After the trial, after everything was...over."

She looked at him for a moment. "Oh. Yeah," she said, nodding once and heading for the bedroom door. "It's, uh...it's a pretty good possibility." She walked out of the room.

Grinning like a fool, he grabbed his phone, and then hers, and followed her out, hoping to get through the night fast. He quietly toed over to the couch where his son lay sleeping, pushed his feet into his shoes, and met Olivia by the front door. "I want to make this clear," he said, almost threateningly, "I am not okay with you working with Fin tonight, and if Cragen thinks I'm just gonna sit in the corner with my tail between my legs, he's got another..."

She pressed a single finger to his lips as she opened her front door. "I've worked with him before, you had other partners..."

"Temporary," he said firmly, his eyes narrowing. "They were all temporary. Anyone before you, Liv, they were temporary." He lifted his right hand, cupped the side of her face, and slowly moved in, kissing her softly. "There's no one after you. You're it for me."

"You mean at work," she said, nuzzling his hand for a second before stepping out into the hallway.

He followed, shaking his head, and as she closed the door, checking it was locked, he said, "In every way that could possibly mean."

She stared at him, flummoxed.

"Back there, in that bedroom, that..." he ran a hand down his face and scratched at his neck. "That wasn't supposed to happen, but it did, and, fuck, I felt everything I needed to feel...to know." He watched her move but stepped in front of her. "If you tell me, right now, that you didn't feel anything..."

"El," she said, stopping him, "We can't. Not...now."

"Just tell me," he said, his voice almost breaking. His eyes were pleading and his lips were turned under in worry and fear.

Closing her eyes, she sighed. "Everything you felt..." she slowly opened her eyes. "Multiply it by ten, and you've got what I felt." She offered him a smile. "But I can't feel any of it, not now. Not...not yet. Neither one of us is in a place to..."

"There's no way to stop feelings," he said, interrupting her. "We can't, uh, you know...act on them. Not the way we both know we want to. Need to. But soon. Yeah?"

"Maybe," she said, but her sly tone and fox-like smirk told him she was on the same page he was. "We have to go before Cragen thinks..."

"We're making out in your closet?" he finished, teasing.

She laughed. "Something like that," she said. "So what are you going to do while Fin and I are hunting down the people in Lake's notebook?"

He grunted, clicked his tongue, and said, "You honestly think I'm letting that happen? Fin can spend his night poring over autopsy reports, I'm going with you."

"Big baby," she said, hitting the button to call the elevator. She looked at him, then, the first time all night she'd been truly able. "You need to shave."

He licked his lips. "Give me a reason," he said, his playful tone combined with a bit of arrogance.

She thought for a moment, and knew just what to say to stun him into mild submission. "I hate rugburn," she said, a smokey look in her eyes. She moved into the elevator, grinning, knowing she just made it nearly impossible for him to move, or think straight.

"Not nice," he grumbled, pulling on his jeans. "Really...really not nice."

She laughed and folded her arms. "When's the hearing?"

"Tuesday," he said, "Thanks for killing my good mood."

She watched the gloom wash over his face and felt guilty. "I'm sorry, I just..."

"I know," he said, "The sooner it's all over, the sooner I can try to put my life back together." He rested a hand on her lower back as the elevator dinged, and they stepped out into the lobby of her building. They were lost in each other's eyes, finding solace in the twisted emotions they found there. They were almost to the door when they heard a voice calling their names, one after the other. They turned their heads simultaneously and froze in their spots.

"Cap," Elliot said, torn between dropping his hand away from Olivia and holding on tighter. "We were on the way down to the..."

"I know," Cragen said, "No time. You need to come with me. Now."

"What is it?" Olivia asked, her heart beginning to speed up again.

"One of my kids?" Elliot questioned.

Cragen shook his head as he led them out to a waiting squad car. "No, no," he said, but he was jittery and very pale.

"Kathy?" Olivia asked, figuring she would be the only other person that would merit such emergency.

"No," Cragen spat. "Get in the car." He practically pushed them into the back seat of the cruiser.

Elliot couldn't take much more. "Will you just tell us who..."

"Casey," Cragen said, slamming their door. He settled into the passenger seat and told the cop behind the wheel to drive.

Olivia and Elliot looked at each other for a moment before facing straight ahead, trying to avoid making the most obvious conclusion. They were going to need a lot of coffee, and a small miracle, to make it through the night.

 _ **Peace and Love**_

 _ **Jo**_


	8. Chapter 8

_**Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction.**_

"I'm telling you, I am fine! I wasn't..." Casey began, but was interrupted by the stern voice of Olivia.

"You were attacked!" Olivia hissed. "It's not the first time, and I feel..."

"If you say 'guilty," Casey interrupted, "I will have Huang analyze you. I knew the risks of taking this job, and I knew the risks of digging into this case when I didn't have to."

Olivia nodded and looked at Elliot, who cleared his throat and took a step closer to Casey's bed. "Do you know who did this to you?"

Casey sighed and sat up, seething in pain as she moved. She shook her head, and then said, "He told me to let it go, to stop looking before he...he threatened to come back and...finish me off."

"I'll call Fin, tell him to run down the list of men connected to Lake and his cold cases." Elliot reached for Olivia's hand, took it and squeezed it, and gave her a soft nod before walking out of the room.

Casey stared at Olivia, slack-jawed and wide-eyed.

"What?" Olivia questioned, rolling her eyes.

"What was that?" Casey asked. "He just...and you were looking at him like..."

"You were hit in the head," Olivia said with a chuckle, "Harder than we thought."

"Not that hard," Casey mumbled. "When I get out of here, you know you're telling me what the hell that was."

"I can make them keep you here," Olivia said, winking at her. "Seriously, are you..."

"I'm fine," Casey said again, a bit louder and slightly aggravated. "I told you he didn't...I wasn't..." She took a breath and let it out slowly. "There's no need for you and Elliot to be here. You have a case to close, before someone else gets hurt."

"We don't have any more leads," Olivia said, biting her lip. "This guy might get..."

"Don't think so," Elliot said, pushing the door open. "Fin ran the names, and one fits into all the holes we got in this case."

"Who?" Olivia asked, stiffening.

Elliot held the door open and tossed his head back, telling her to come with him. "I'll fill you in on the way to pick him up." He smiled sadly at Casey. "You hang in there, Novak."

"I always do," Casey said, smiling back. "Be careful."

Elliot waved and Olivia smiled at her, and with an almost solemn mood in the air, they left the room together and headed for the elevator.

"Casey saw you," Olivia said as they squeezed into the crowded lift. "You know, holding my hand."

Elliot chuckled. "I kind of figured she would, I mean, she's not blind." He smiled at her and reached out his hand again, this time to brush hair out of her eyes. "The notebook checked out, by the way. There was another cold case he was working on, with Fielding. It, uh...it has a connection to the one that strung him up."

"What case?" she asked, eagerness in her eyes, shielding the growing love for him behind it.

He looked around and inched closer to her, lowering her voice. "Remember when we interviewed the girl's father, and and he said his family went back to El Salvador?"

"Mmm," she hummed affirmatively, pressing her lips together.

"Well," he tilted his head, licked his lips, and looked into her eyes. "Not his whole family. He, uh, he wasn't the only one who stayed behind." He checked his watch and cursed under his breath. "Already after midnight. Another long night, my son is in your apartment by himself...and it's officially fucking Monday, which means tomorrow I..."

The ding of the elevator stopped his complaining and they were pushed out by the throng of people behind them. They laughed it off and headed out of the hospital, toward the car park. Elliot pulled out his cell phone, firing off a long text-message to someone as he waved over to Cragen, who was talking to an officer in the lot.

Cragen said his goodbyes and stood up straighter, waiting for them. "Well? What did she say?"

"She wasn't raped," Olivia said, shoving her hands in her pockets. "And it was a man, he threatened to come back and finish the job if she kept digging into this case."

"Sorry I left the two of you up there alone, I had a few calls to make," he looked at Elliot. "That hunch of yours paid off. I called a buddy of mine, a higher-up in the bureau. All of our vics, except for Fielding, were in WitPro. The son-of-a-bitch behind this whole thing is still out there, picking off the people who can rat him out, one-by-one."

"Yeah," Elliot said, dropping his phone back into his pocket. "And I think we know who it is." He shook his head, his teeth scraping over his bottom lip. "You're not gonna like it."

Cragen narrowed his eyes. "If you have a lead, tell me. I don't care if you think it's Liv, you tell me."

"Hey!" Olivia chortled, crossing her arms.

Elliot laughed, but it wasn't exactly happy. He quieted and then let out a slow breath. "Detective Carlo Lopez," he said. "Hector Hernandez's brother-in-law."

Olivia looked at him, befuddled. "What, I don't...what?" She blinked once. "The Homicide detective we worked with on the White case?"

Elliot just nodded, his eyes slowly closing and opening again. "That's the guy. He was mentioned in that notebook, a lot, as Lake's solid 'Plan B' for every case. He's a cleaner, Liv."

Cragen gritted his teeth. "There are too many dirty cops involved with this. You two, shut it down, now." He slapped the keys to the black-and-white into Elliot's hand and ran past them. He turned and pointed. "You call me when you get the bastard!"

"Where are you going?" Olivia yelled back.

"I have to talk to Casey!" he bellowed, and then he disappeared behind the glass doors of the hospital.

Elliot looked at the keys in his hand, and then back up at Olivia, a grin forming on his face. "You know what this means?"

"Yeah, yeah," she said, rolling her eyes. "Lights and sirens." She shook her head and laughed to herself as she followed him over to the car. She hated to admit it to herself, but she loved how giddy he got over the simple things, and she knew this momentary joy, caused by something so silly as a police cruiser, meant so much to him. She got in, buckled up, and watched his goofy smile broaden as he hit the switch to turn on the lights. She loved seeing him so happy, when, lately, it seemed he'd forgotten how to smile.

"Ready?" he asked, his hand on the gear shift.

She nodded and laughed again, watching him whoop and holler as he pulled out of the parking space and hit the button, making the siren wail.

She had to laugh. "Give him this," she heard the voice inside her say. Tomorrow, his world would turn upside down all over again, his family would be torn apart, and she knew it would be up to her to keep the seams from ripping to shreds as best she could. "So give him this," she thought to herself again. She bit her lip and reached out, hitting the siren's button again so he could keep both hands on the wheel.

"You get a kick out of this, too, don't you?" he asked, laughing.

"Sure," she said, nodding once. With the siren blaring and the lights swirling their blue and red, she sat back and watched the man she loved behave like a child with a new toy, and she really did get a kick out of it. She cherished the moment, burning the memory into her mind and taking mental photographs because she didn't know when the next time he could be this carefree would be, how long she'd have to wait to see it. "Hey, El?"

He looked at her out of the corner of his eyes as he turned down a street. "Yeah?"

"Everything's going to be okay," she said firmly.

As he pulled up to the curb outside the precinct, he turned to her. "I believe you." He leaned over and kissed her cheek, and then opened his door. "Let's go, huh? I'm tired, hungry, and these pants have been way too tight for a couple of hours."

She rolled her eyes and laughed again, sighed, and got out of the car. He believed her, but she wasn't so sure she believed herself.

 _ **Peace and Love**_

 _ **Jo**_

 _ **MarchCommaJo on Twitter**_


	9. Chapter 9

_**Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction.**_

"Cleaner," Olivia snapped, pulling a metal chair across the cement floor of the interrogation room. She straddled it, and as she leaned forward, she narrowed her eyes. "That's what they call you, huh?"

Lopez slumped, giving a dismissive "hmph" as he waved a hand in her direction. "You don't know..." he said with a shake of his head.

"Well, then tell me all about it," Olivia chirped, a bitterly inviting tone in her voice, her arms stretched wide in welcome. "Enlighten me, Carlo, because if you don't, you're gonna find yourself in one hot mess you can't clean up."

Lopez bit his lower lip, shifting his eyes in her direction. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Olivia grinned. She pulled a pile of files from the middle of the long, silver table over to her and one-by-one, she held them up. "Penelope Fielding...and her unborn child," she said, tossing the folder down near Lopez. The slap was so harsh, he flinched. It made Olivia grin a bit more snidely. "Cecelia Cruz," came out of her mouth disdainfully, another toss of another file. "Mary Kralik," she spat, throwing down a third folder, "And those are just the dead ones. Is this your handiwork? Huh? This how you clean up after you screw up?"

"No!" Lopez shouted, banging his fist on the table. With each tossed file, his heart pounded a little harder, his nostrils flared, and he was ready to blow. "Fuck, no! I didn't have shit to do with this, Benson! My job...what I do for them...it isn't this! And Cecilia? I would never hurt her. I was trying to save her. We all were."

"Then you'd better give me another suspect, fast, becuase you're the only person that connects the dots, here," Olivia whispered to him, leaning so close that she could hear his heart thumping against his chest. "You look good for this, IAB is ready to string you up, and me? I don't really care one way or another how we get you, as long as we get you. People like you give the rest of us cops a bad name, and the best part of my job is taking dirty cops like you out of the house."

Lopez lowered his head and trembled a bit as he opened and closed his mouth, trying to speak. "She was...she was supposed to be in Witness Protection. She was supposed to be safe. He...he promised she would be safe."

"Who, Carlo?" Olivia asked, more sympathetic now, turning her 'good-cop' on and her 'bad-cop' off. "Who promised?"

"Victor," Lopez confessed with a shaking breath. "Gary Victor, he's a..."

"Marshal," Olivia finished, the name ringing more than a few bells in her head. "You're not off the hook, here. Not until we find him, you understand?"

"What kind of trouble am I in, here, Detective Benson?" Lopez asked, his face screwed up with worry and fear.

Olivia rose to her feet and gathered the files. "That depends," she said, hearing the door open behind her. "You tell Detective Tutuola everything, lay it all down, and we'll tell the DA you cooperated. You'll need to testify against..."

"What are my chances here?" he interrupted, a plea in his voice that cracked through the thick air.

Swallowing hard and trying not to pity him, Olivia looked away. "You tell us everything, and at least you'll actually have a chance." She left Fin to it, hearing the low mumbles and soft voices, knowing that Lopez was caving. She walked out of the interrogation room, closing the door behind her, and once she was in the viewing room, she dropped the files into Cragen's arms. "You heard him," she said, looking at her captain.

"Yeah, and I saw the look on your face when he gave you a name," he said, sounding more like a concerned father than her boss. "You know the guy."

Olivia made a face, waving her head from side-to-side in contemplation. "Not personally, no. Not..not well, at least. He used to work with Andy Eckerson, and I used to..."

"Yeah, I, uh, I remember Elliot telling me about that." Cragen shot Olivia a look. "Speaking of Elliot..."

"He's in court," Olivia said a bit too fast. "With Kathy and his...Eli." Her face fell and her heart snapped like a dry twig. She pressed her lips together and looked toward the door. "I should go make a few phone calls. Track down Victor."

"You really want to drag Eckerson into this?" Cragen asked, which made her head whip around to face him. "You don't think you should wait for Elliot before you do that?"

Olivia furrowed her brow and tried to think, evaluating the tone of his voice and the look on his face. "Cap, what difference does it make if I call him with or without..."

"Olivia," Cragen folded his arms, keeping the files flush against him, and he took two steps toward her. He peered down at her knowingly, and he lowered his voice. "The man practically ripped Andy's head off the last time he saw him. When he told me you and...the look on his face, I...I just think, since he's in a delicate situation and may not be the most stable right now, you should hold off on talking to Eckerson. At least until Elliot gets back."

Olivia saw the warning in his eyes, and the look on his face sent goose-bumps rising along the edge of he spine. "If you want to say something to me, Captain, then say it. You think Elliot's going to be pissed at me because I made a phone call? You think he's, what, jealous?"

"I think in his current frame of mind, Olivia, he would take it the wrong way, yes." Cragen half-whispered. "I see things, and though there's nothing much I can do to keep anything from happening, as the command of this unit, the least I can do is limit the fallout. You want to call down to the DOJ and talk to someone else, fine. But do not..."

"Right," Olivia said softly, averting her eyes and running her hand through her hair. "You're...you're right. I should probably wait."

"For a lot of things," Cragen said. "Get me?"

She scraped her teeth along her bottom lip and nodded, feeling somewhere between violated and embarrassed. She walked out of the room and headed for her desk, wondering what business Cragen had even bringing up the possibility of personal feelings between her and Elliot. But she knew he was right. Elliot would be wounded, and pissed off, if he found out she went to Andy without telling him first. She sat down with a heavy plop and rolled some tension out of her neck, and as she turned to pull her drawer open, an arm reached out to her.

Slowly, she traced the arm, with her eyes, to its owner, and her face fell. Taking the cup of coffee the hand had offered, she asked, "What happened, El?"

He shook his head, not trusting himself to speak, and he walked over to his side of the paired desks. He dropped his own coffee down, practically falling into his chair, and let his head drop into his hands. "I had to listen to her...justify her affairs...and then she justified lying to me about the baby, and the judge..." he paused, looked up at Olivia, and his red, raw eyes blinked once. "Thanks for calling the one judge that couldn't use any personal knowledge against me."

"What happened?" she asked a second time, not satisfied with the jumbled mess of an explanation he had given her.

"He didn't really believe her actions were justifiable," he told her with a shrug. "As far as he knew, I was as loyal and faithful to her and my children..."

"You were, Elliot," Olivia interjected.

He nodded, licking his lips. "Fault-grounds for divorce. Her fault, not mine. Dissolution of marriage due to infidelity and adultery." He let out a grunting scoff and leaned back in his chair again. "Meets the grounds since I didn't know she had an affair before I slept with her, and because it wasn't just one affair, and because, oh yeah, she lied about the paternity of her child!" he boomed, having gotten himself upset again. "Fucking bastard had the balls to threaten me, said if I ever went near his son or his girlfriend again..." he stopped and made an angry face. "Little piss ant had no idea who the hell he was messing with, found out I was a cop and suddenly he apologizes and the sniveling little..."

"Elliot," Olivia said softly,. her eyes closed. "Please, calm down." She opened her eyes and looked at him. She knew he'd be upset, but the anger that was radiating off of him raised the temperature in the room by at least five degrees, and she now knew that what had happened in her apartment was a mistake. "Why don't you take the rest of the day..."

"God, no," he snorted. "The last thing I need is to be left alone, right now. I need to be here, I need to take my mind off of this bullshit, and I need..." he looked at her, the look in her eyes registering and clicking in his mind. "I need to be with you," he whispered. "Liv, that...I don't regret..."

"No?" she asked, a harsh whisper. "You sure?"

He leaned a little farther over, tilting his head and softening his look. "I'm hurt, pissed off in a couple ways for a couple reasons, and I am...fucking angry, Liv, but you and me...is the one thing, the only thing right now, that I don't regret."

Her eyes closed and opened slowly, her body visibly relaxed, and she was about to say something else when Fin came storming out of the back room. "Son-of-a-bitch is going down," he said, dropping a yellow notebook and pen onto his desk and picking up his phone. He looked at Olivia. "You get a hold of Eckerson, yet?"

"Excuse me?" Elliot said, his brows raising and a dangerous smirk crossing his lips. He looked at Olivia and waited.

"Lopez told me who was in charge of Cruz's case," Olivia said, raising a hand to him, palm out, asking him to calm down again. "Guy used to work with Andy, I have to call him and ask if he's heard from..."

"Fuck that," Elliot said, flipping to the E in the old-fashioned Rolodex on his desk.

Olivia rolled her eyes, catching Cragen's I-told-you-so smirk as she did. "It was only..."

He cut her off. "I'm calling him. You...you and that..." he mumbled under his breath as he dialed the numbers and shot Olivia a heated look, one that had too many other emotions hidden in it to count. "Eckerson," Elliot snapped when someone picked up. "Stabler, from the...yeah, yeah, good. Oh, she's doing great, actually. She's getting married. Listen, I need to ask you if you heard from..." he covered the mouthpiece and asked Olivia, "What's his name?"

A stunned look of sheer disbelief was on her face, along with an incredulous grin. "I'm getting married?"

"As far as he knows," Elliot said with a wink. "And it's not far off, I mean, you are. Eventually. What's the guy's name, I don't want to talk to this ass any longer than I have to."

She chuckled at him, shaking her head. "Gary Victor," she said, crossing her arms.

Elliot uncovered the receiver and said, "I need to know if you have heard from Gary Victor in the last twenty-four hours. His name came up in an investigation and we...oh," he said, his tone changing, his body stiffening. "Well, uh, then I guess we should. I'm glad we're on the same side of this one. What? No! Call a cab, or an Uber, we aren't chauffeurs. This is our case, so we're not doing you any special favors." He rolled his eyes. "No, some things never change," he griped, and then looked at Olivia. A slow smile grew. "But some things change for the better. Soon, yeah. Thanks." He hung up and ran a hand down his face.

"That didn't sound good," Olivia said, watching something flicker in Elliot's eyes.

"Victor has been dust in the wind for weeks," he said. "They've been after him, too. He, uh...he's a suspect in a murder in Pennsylvania." He narrowed his eyes. "Philadelphia." He sighed. "Eckerson's coming out here to help us find him, and then he's..."

"Elliot," she interrupted. "You told him I was getting married! Now, he's coming here and he's gonna ask..." she saw the evil smirk on his face. "You're a giant child."

"Just making sure he knows you're spoken for," Elliot said, taking a sip of his coffee. As he lowered the cup to his desk, his smirk faded. Everything hit him again, and he looked over at Olivia. "Can we take a walk?"

Her annoyance at his actions took a backseat to the pang of heartbreak she felt as she got a good look at his face. She nodded, rising. She grabbed her coffee and walked with him, hoping whatever they were walking toward would somehow lead to what they both needed. Assurance.

 _ **Peace and Love**_

 _ **Jo**_

 _ **MarchCommaJo on Twitter**_


	10. Chapter 10

_**Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction.**_

"El," Olivia said, looking skyward as she brought her cup of lukewarm coffee to her lips.

"Hmm?" he hummed, not looking at her, or at anything really. There was a tense, blank expression on his face.

She stopped walking and grabbed the sleeve of his jacket. "You asked me to take a walk with you, I assume that meant you wanted to talk about..."

"I just wanted to take a walk," he said, narrowing his eyes at her. "With you." He nodded once. "That's what we're doing."

"Oh, um," she licked her lips and resigned. "Okay then." She took another sip of the coffee, grimaced, and tossed it into the nearest wire wastebasket. "So let's just...keep walking."

He blinked once and sighed, closing his eyes fully. "Sorry, I...I just needed some air, some silence," he pulled his arm out of her grip and took her hand. "And I needed you."

"What's the matter?" She looked at him with upturned eyes and but her lip, but she squeezed his hand.

He sighed heavily, as though the whole world had fallen onto his shoulders at once. "I don't know how this happened," he said dejectedly. "Wait. That's...that's a lie, I know exactly how this happened. I was neglecting my family, my wife...because of this job."

"You didn't neglect anything, or anyone," she said, trying to reassure him, but she saw that it didn't even register.

He nodded and coughed once. "I did, and when you...you were gone...it was so much worse. I was more alone than I thought I could ever be, even when I was surrounded by people. Does that even make any sense?"

She said nothing, but she nodded.

"You left before, you know? You always came back, but this time was different and I thought...what if you didn't come back, what if you left for good, so I tried like hell to make things work with Kathy so if you...shit, so if that was the case...I wouldn't be so alone." He sighed again and shook his head. "That night, I know I should have gone with you...but the way we were both feeling and the frame of mind I was in, I would have ended up doing something that would've hurt you, and hurt Kathy, and I couldn't." He scoffed at himself and bit back the stinging behind his eyes. "I went home, and I thought everything was going to be okay. But we ended up falling apart anyway, and finding out she had an affair...two of them...I know I can't blame her, I wasn't giving her what she needed, what she deserved."

"You were a great husband to her, don't do that to yourself," she offered, but he shook his head again despite her efforts.

"I wasn't," he said. He looked into her eyes. "I was a better husband to you, undercover and pretending, than I was to my wife. I was never home, that takes it's toll on a marriage. There were nights I could have gone home, but I ended up in the crib, or on your couch, or it was a case that took us out for days at a time. I know I had certain needs that weren't being met, so how could I expect her to keep standing in the wings like that?" He scratched the beginnings of a five-o-clock-shadow and licked his lips. "I knew things were strained, but still I went where the job took me, with you, and I think a part of me expected this." He looked up and exhaled sharply again, audibly, with a bitter-sounding chuckle. "Funny, after that case...the one that...when I almost lost..." He took a breath and found his words. "After Gitano, when I said that you and this job were all I had left...I meant it. It's more true now, though. It's so fucking true because...I knew, even then, that I'd already lost Kathy. The last two years have been nothing but us not being willing to admit we failed, sweeping everything under the rug to keep up appearances. She told you she had no intention of ever telling me...I mean, how could she just...fuck, what if I'd found out too late that I wasn't his father? What if Eli ever got seriously hurt, or sick, or needed a kidney?"

She blinked at his words and smiled a bit, brushing her thumb along the side of his hand. "Things happen for a reason," she told him. "It's better this happened now, no matter how painful it is, and I'm sorry I..." she paused, looked into his eyes. "I'm sorry you're going through this, I can't stand to see you hurting, but I can't say I'm sorry that this is saving you from living like that anymore."

He gave her a half-smile, lifted her hand to his lips, kissed her knuckles, and said, "You're just happy you finally get me all to yourself."

Rolling her eyes, she gave a smug smirk. "Check your ego at the door, Stabler."

He laughed, a real laugh, and felt lighter than he had in weeks. "We should get back."

She nodded, but she tilted her head. "You sure there was nothing else you needed to get off your chest? Nothing else you want to tell me?"

"It can wait," he said, winking at her. As he turned and began to pull her back in the direction of the station, his phone rang. He answered it with a short blurt of his last name. "Oh, damn," he said, listening. He looked at Olivia. "We're on the way." He hung up and cursed under his breath.

"What?" she asked, concerned.

He let out a breath and said, "We have to go down to The Tombs." He looked at her solemnly. "Carlo Lopez was attacked, he's unresponsive and they don't think he's gonna make it."

"What?" Her eyes were wide and her jaw had dropped. "When? How? Who?"

"About an hour ago, with a pipe in the library, Colonel Mustard," he said sarcastically and then he shot her a look. "That's why they called us, Liv. We have to go figure it all out." He tugged on her hand, walking a little faster, heading for the sedan in the lot near the station. "We should call..."

Before he could finish, Olivia's phone chirped. She answered the call and looked at Elliot as she mouthed, "It's Fin." She listened for a bit. "Yeah, we know, that's where we're heading. Did you find out who...oh, that's just great. I guess we will. Thanks." She ended the call and shoved her phone back in her pocket with a grunt.

"That sounds bad," he said, unlocking the maroon car. "What's the problem?"

"We're going to have to meet someone out front when we get there." She ran a hand through her hair, dread building.

"Who?" He opened the passenger side door for her and waited.

"Andy," she said on a breath, sitting down and buckling up. She cringed when he slammed her door. Her eyes were fixed on the spot she knew his would be, and when he got into the car she said, "Be civil."

"Get real," he snapped, starting the car.

"Oh, and what the hell was that crack about me getting married?" She crossed her arms in irritation. "You pull this shit all the time! With Dean and with..."

"I couldn't help it!" he interrupted, both hands on the wheel a bit too tightly. His knuckles were turning white. "He asked how you were and I knew the minute he asked...he was looking for an opening, and I shut him down."

"Why?" she asked, a grin pulling at her lips.

"What?" he spat, his eyes narrow and his lips thin.

She twisted in her seat and repeated her question. "Why?" She flicked hair out of her eyes. "Why do you always get in the way when a guy..."

"Oh, don't play stupid," he injected. "You know why."

"Tell me," she demanded. "This is it, right? What you wanted to say? So just say it."

He all but shouted, "Because the thought of any other man getting that close to you makes me fucking sick to my stomach, okay? Having to watch someone else..." He stopped, pressed his lips together, and was silent for a moment. "Not now, not anymore." He exhaled slowly and sent a quick glance in her direction. "Never again." He saw the grin on her face and he relaxed, his hands loosened grip, his shoulders fell and he settled deeper into his seat. A smile tugged the corners of his mouth, then, too, and he knew that she was right.

Things do happen for a reason. There were so many things happening at once, though, and the reasons did not yet make sense to him. He looked at her again, softly this time. All the reasons were the same, he realized as he let himself smile again.

"You think he knows more than he's letting on, don't you?" she asked, uncrossing her arms.

"Who?" he questioned, slapping down the turn signal lever. "Eckerson?" Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her nod. "I don't trust him. I never have. I don't trust him with cases, and I sure as hell don't trust him with you."

She cleared her throat and said, "I don't think he's coming to help us find Gary Victor, El." She looked at him, meeting his eyes as he turned, the car stopping at a red light. "I think he's coming to make sure we don't."

 _ **Peace and Love**_

 _ **Jo**_


	11. Chapter 11

_**Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction.**_

"Look," Elliot said, heaving a heavy sigh and rubbing his forehead, "Opening statements for Lake's trial are tomorrow, I have a meeting with my own lawyer in the morning, and you being here is a roadblock we don't need." He folded his arms, tilted his head, and narrowed his eyes. "Why are you really here?"

Andy Eckerson stared back at him, seemingly offended. He crossed his own arms, trying to appear just as intimidating as Elliot. He puffed out his chest a bit before he spoke. "I need to find this bastard more than you do. He turned his back on his badge, his oath to protect and serve, and innocent people are..."

"You could have just told me what I needed to know over the phone," Elliot interrupted. He briefly tried to place the make and model of Eckerson's power-suit, wondering if it, too, was some sort of status had a similar one in how own closet, though his was a more faded and worn out shook off the bleak comparison. "You could've just given me a location, a contact, that's all. So, I ask again. Why are you here?"

Eckerson smirked, understanding the subtext of the question. "Oh, give me a friggen break, Stabler. This isn't about her. I haven't even talked to her in years, why would I..."

"No one said anything about Liv," Elliot said, grinning. "You brought her up, she's, obviously on your mind, so..." he shrugged and his smile widened. "I meant, that I think you're here to keep us from finding Victor, because I don't think he's gone rogue. In fact, I think he's been following orders, doing exactly what you've been telling him to do." He took a step closer, the move laced with physical threat. "Prove me wrong."

Eckerson backed up and shot Elliot a disdainful look, almost sneering at him. "How dare you, Stabler?" He tugged on his tie. "The man has killed innocent people! People my team had sworn to protect!"

"So he isn't just tying up loose ends because the case was slipping through your fingers?" Elliot accused.

"Elliot!" Olivia had stepped up behind him, clearly unhappy with his current line of questioning. "Play nice!" she scolded. She gave him a harsh warning glare and looked at Eckerson. "Forgive him, but I think I speak for both of us when I say...we don't exactly trust you." She folded over the excess plastic of an evidence bag and looked at Elliot. "Lopez bit his attacker. Hopefully the blood in his mouth will give us a hit."

"Olivia," Eckerson spoke before Elliot could answer her, "I'm here to stop him. I promise you that."

"Yeah," Olivia scoffed mildly. "Your promises never really held much weight." She moved the fringe out of her eyes with one finger. "We need to get back to the station, get this to the lab. Fin and Munch are watching the security tapes from MDC, I want to see what they've got. And you," she aimed her still pointed finger at Eckerson, "Call every number you've got for Victor. Cell phones, safe houses in the area, burner phone, pagers, if it could possibly connect to him, you try it."

Eckerson nodded. "Of course," he said, his face long and his demeanor like that of a wounded puppy. "What did he say?" he asked, jutting his chin toward the hospital room behind Olivia.

"Nothing," she said, raising both brows. "He's unconscious." She pushed her way between the two men and headed for the elevator.

Elliot and Eckerson looked at each other for a moment before following her, each step becoming competition, each man taking a longer stride in order to be the one to end up next to her in the box. Elliot won out, by simply sidestepping and looping around to the other side of her. He leaned in and whispered to her, "Sorry. You know, about...back there."

"Stop being a five-year-old," she chided, looking at him sideways. But then she smiled. "And stop being jealous. There's no reason."

He offered her a small smile, but his stomach dropped just as fast as the elevator. "Liv," he whispered, his face falling and color draining from his entire being. "What am I gonna do?"

"Tomorrow?" she asked, and suddenly the wall she'd put up around herself for Andy's sake had crumbled at her feet for Elliot's. "You'll get through it. "I'll be right there with you."

He opened his mouth, but just as his first half-word escaped, the doors opened and Eckerson all but pushed them out of the elevator. "What time is it?" he asked, directing the question to both of them.

Olivia narrowed her eyes at him as she began walking toward the exit. "Quarter to eleven," she said. "Why?"

Eckerson's eyes glimmered, his nose twitched, and his lips curled upward. "I think I might know where he is, if he's a creature of habit." He looked at Olivia. "Think we can take a detour?"

"What kind of detour?" Elliot asked.

Eckerson snorted. "There's more than one kind of detour?"

Elliot huffed and shoved his hands in his pockets. "Are you taking us someplace helpful, or are we walking into a pile of shit? Is it in the city, upstate, out-of-state? I want details before I agree to leave my life in your hands."

"Don't be so fucking dramatic," Eckerson said with a roll of his eyes.

Olivia chuckled to herself. She knew it could end badly, but she needed to get out of the middle of the two men, and fast. "Go. If you think it'll get to him, then just...go. But, um, why don't the two of you go without me, huh?" she said, turning on her heels and rolling her eyes. She was gone before either of them could protest.

Elliot let out a soft grunt. "Fine, okay," he groaned, and he turned to look at Eckerson. "Where are we going?"

Eckerson began to walk toward the door. "Victor has a few bad habits that he couldn't break, no matter how many badges he exchanged. There's a quaint little Chinese restaurant on Mott that caters to a few of them."

Pushing the door open, Elliot nodded in recognition. "The three G's," he said. "Gambling, guns, and girls."

"There are a few more letters involved," Eckerson said. "He was on his way out. Cruz was his last intake. We had her set up in Seattle, but when he never checked in, it sent up a red flag." He turned to look at Elliot as he rested his hand on the passenger door's handle. "His partner was found in his apartment, throat slit, face beaten beyond recognition."

Elliot let out an exhausted breath. "That's him," he said with a small nod. He got into the car and started it up, hating that he had to make the drive with Eckerson but hoping it would be the final night spent on the case.

They pulled up to a small but crowded Chinese dive, simultaneously flashing badges to the large man at the door. They pushed through the sardine-can entryway and tried to see through the dim, red-lit dining room.

"Up there," Eckerson said, pointing to a second-floor, the neon lights swirling and flashing. "That's where the real party is."

Elliot stepped back and let Eckerson lead the way. "Is this where you'd go at night when you weren't out skydiving or base-jumping?"

Eckerson laughed. "Man, my time spent here was never leisure. And, uh, I've actually never been base-jumping. It's on my to-do list, though."

"That's why you lost her, you know," Elliot said, "Because you couldn't stop chasing cheap thrills."

Eckerson stopped on the stairs and turned quickly, a sharp look of annoyance on his face. "She was never mine to lose," he said. "What I had was the dregs. Bits and pieces. I knew I was never going to have all of her. That would mean she'd have to take back the parts that already belonged to you." He took pride in the shock and awe on Elliot's face. "Don't tell me you didn't know."

Elliot's face was blank.

Eckerson grinned more smugly. "No, you wouldn't have realized. You were too busy wrapped up in your own life to notice how crazy she was about you." He shrugged and shook his head. "This is what you've been trying to get out of me all night, right? This is what you want to hear? Well, here it is. You told me on the phone that she was engaged. I thought you were pulling my leg, getting under my skin. But I see the way you two look at each other, the way you were in the elevator. You finally opened up your fucking eyes and saw that it was you...you who was losing her." He licked his lips. "I let her think it was my fault. That there was something wrong with me. I admit, I was an adrenaline junkie, I still am, but I wasn't crazy. I would bring up some insane idea, just to see if she'd go with me on it, just once, the way she was so quick to go along with you all the time. She would always tell me that she needed stability." With a longer exhalation he said, "The only stable thing in her life was...and is...you." He breathed out, his nostrils flaring. "I'm here to do my job, not get in the middle of something I already had to fight my way out of, okay?"

Elliot said nothing, not correcting, confirming, or denying anything. Eckerson was right, he had gotten what he wanted, but he never expected it to be so genuinely human. "We, uh...we should..." he pointed up to the top of the stairs.

"Yeah, we should," Eckerson turned, and he only managed to take two more steps before the first shot was fired.

And then, all hell broke loose.

It was just after midnight when Elliot and Eckerson roared into the Special Victims Unit's squad room, yelling at the top of their lungs. Elliot held a wet rag to his left eye as Eckerson cupped an ice pack against his right elbow.

The people in the room froze in the middle of whatever they'd been doing and looked on, stunned, no one understanding a thing either man said. Olivia ran to Elliot and yanked the cloth away, surveying the damage, and the move immediately silenced him and put an abrupt end to the fight.

She looked from the bleeding gash above his eye to his split lip and then finally met his gaze. "What happened?"

He closed his eyes, wincing as the action pulled apart his torn, sore skin. "We got Victor," he said.

Cragen's eyes widened. "Is he in booking? You got him in holding?"

Eckerson cleared his throat, part of him knowing exactly why Olivia was so concerned with Elliot's injuries, another part loathing that she wasn't at all concerned about his. "No," he said, "but he is in the building."

"Where?" Cragen said, his heart stopping. He already knew the answer.

Elliot did not take his eyes off of Olivia's. "The morgue."

 _ **Peace and Love**_

 _ **Jo**_


	12. Chapter 12

_**Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction.**_

"You need to get a handle on your emotions," Olivia hissed at Elliot as they slid into a wooden courtroom bench.

"Me?" he scoffed harshly. "The Queen-of-Overemotional thinks I need to get a grip?"

She shot him a pained look, but narrowed her eyes. "Yeah, I am, because you have to testify in a little over twenty-four hours, and the last thing we need is you fucking up and not focusing because you hate the world right now."

"I don't hate the world," he snapped, tugging roughly on his tie, "Just the people living in it."

"Nice," she huffed, crossing her arms. There was tense silence between them, but as the courtroom filled up, and people filled in the row, she had to move closer to Elliot. The moment her arm brushed against his body, she felt him slump and heard the barest trembling breath escape. She looked over at him and softened, reaching one hand over to his.

He took it, clasping almost desperately. His lower lip quivered, his chin dimpled with the pressure of resisting the strong need to cry. "I'm sorry," he breathed in her direction.

"You had a rough morning," she said, flicking her dark hair back with a finger on her free hand. "You had to listen to some harsh words and things that...weren't easy to hear. You just..."

"I'm sorry I took it out on you," he interrupted, licking his lips. "I was just so...angry."

"I've taken your misdirected rage, before," she told him, teasingly, but it didn't have the desired effect. She saw a deeper guilt and regret take over his angular features and she felt him squeeze her hand harder. "Hey, hey, look at me."

He pressed his lips together firmly and turned his head, just slightly, in her direction.

"I didn't mean that in any kind of..." she took a breath. "I'm here, and I'm an easy target, I don't fault you for it and I know it's not honestly directed at me. I understand that it's just how you work, how you vent, and It's my job as a partner to deflect the blows."

Elliot shook his head. "I said things..."

"You didn't mean," she finished for him. "I know. Do you think anyone else would be able to tell the difference? I let you yell, bitch, and moan, and an hour or two later we're fine."

"Yeah, and how fucking fair is that to you, huh?" He asked the question as pure guilt creeped into every pound of his body. "You don't deserve to be the one that bears the brunt of my temper." He sighed. "You never did, and you never will, so I...you were right. I need to get a grip, and I need to stop aiming shit at you."

She raised one brow and gave him a crooked smile, shaking their clasped hands a bit. Her eyes said it all, that it was her goal to make him realize exactly that.

He smiled at her. "Brilliant plan, Detective," he said, shaking with light laughter. "Thanks." He leaned closer to her, part of him fully convinced he had the right to kiss her. He stopped short of it, though, realizing he didn't, and that they were in the middle of a crowded courtroom filled with people who shouldn't see him kiss her. "For everything."

She nodded, her heart kicking back up after it had stopped and almost burst. For a moment, she thought he was going to kiss her. She rolled her eyes at herself chidingly. All that had passed between them was one clumsy kiss in her closet. A smile crossed her lips then, and they hummed and heated with the memory. It was clumsy, but it was the most powerful, passionate kiss she'd ever been blessed with, and it killed her to think it may be the only one of its kind.

"Liv?" he called, tugging on her hand. "You okay?"

She snapped out of her haze and nodded, pulling her hand out of his. "The judge," she said, jutting her chin toward the opening doors in the front of the room. She got to her feet a moment before the bailiff said to rise, and she smoothed out her black suit jacket.

Elliot's gaze moved slowly from her to the judge as he got to his feet and ran a hand down his tie. As he watched the judge move  
to the bench, he felt him stomach start to churn. He had testified in thousands of cases, sat through innumerable trials, but ones like this, involving a fellow cop and former friend, always made him sick.

"Relax," she whispered to him. "Breathe."

"I hate this," he said, sitting down as the bailiff directed. He looked around while the case was called, and he furrowed his brow when he realized. "Where is he?"

"Who?" Olivia asked, trying to decide for herself who Elliot could possibly be missing.

He turned to her. "Lake."

Olivia's eyes widened and she leaned forward in her seat, training her eyes toward the defendant's table. "No, no they...they had to escort him here, there's no way..."

"Langan isn't here either," Elliot interrupted, absently grazing a finger over his sore lip. He shifted in his seat and cringed, the pain of moving his bruised body getting to him. He exhaled slowly, trying to relax his tight muscles.

"What's the matter?" she said, her words soaked in worry.

He shook his head and licked his lips, feeling the scabbed over skin under his tongue. He knew that, eventually, he would have to give a full and detailed statement on what had happened between him, Eckerson, and Victor, but now wasn't the time. He slid out of his bench just as the judge noted the absence of the defense. "I'm gonna go call..."

Before he could finish his sentence, the courtroom doors swung open and Trevor Langan ran in, looking frazzled, with Chester Lake and three other people right behind him. "Sincere apologies, Your Honor," Langan panted, walking with hard and fast steps toward the bench. He slapped a piece of paper on the wooden surface in front of the judge. "Extenuating circumstances."

The judge gave Langan a skeptical look over the rims of his glasses, lifting up the paper. He looked down, reading it, and his face contorted in confusion. "Running out of gas is an extenuating circumstance, Mister Langan?"

Trevor took a breath and straightened himself out. "It was the county's transportation vehicle, Your Honor. My client is currently in holding at Manhattan Correctional."

The judge rolled his eyes and waved his hand. "Just make your statement, Mister Langan." He sat back in his chair and waited.

Elliot quietly slipped back into his seat, unintentionally closer to Olivia than he was before, not that he minded at all. "Idiot," he spat under his breath, referring to Langan. He sat back, letting the back of his hand test against Olivia's thigh. He smiled slightly and moved his hand a bit.

She couldn't stop a small smile of her own from forming, but she stayed focused on Langan as he spoke.

"Detective Chester Lake. A well-liked, decorated and commendable member of the NYPD. His oath, to serve and protect, is something he takes seriously, and he upholds it even when the justice system fails to do just that," Langan spoke. He smiled at the jury. "What Detective Lake did, though technically considered unlawful, was incredibly justifiable. The man he is accused of murdering in cold blood had in fact killed several people, among a slew of other reprehensible crimes."

He turned on his heels and paced in the other direction, eyeing each juror individually. "The, uh, victim...is that what he is?" He paused to laugh. "Was on trial himself, for rape, murder, conspiracy, blackmail...and would have been found guilty beyond a reasonable doubt, but failure to have what the court deemed sufficient evidence allowed him to walk out of this very room, free to kill again. Free to rape again."

He stopped on a corner and looked at one weak-looking juror. "Your wife," he said. He looked at someone else. "Your daughter." He looked at one more person. "Maybe even you, yourself." He started pacing again. "That was a chance that the judge was willing to take, but not Detective Lake, no. He prevented that man from hurting another person, from destroying another family. Now, if you don't see how that is not only justifiable but a righteous act, then you are part of the reason that monster was so erroneously acquitted in the first place."

Satisfied that he had made his point, he sauntered back to his seat and nodded arrogantly at Lake.

Elliot shook his head and turned to Olivia. "He's good," he said.

Olivia hummed in agreement. She was about to ask a question but felt something vibrating against her hip. "What the hell, El?" she whispered.

"Phone," he said, stifling a chuckle as he shimmied around to fish the device out of his pocket. He tapped the screen a few times, unlocking it.

Olivia grinned, recognizing the five digit number he'd punched in.

He read the text message and looked at her. "We have to go," he said, sliding out of the bench once again.

"Why?" she asked, but followed him without knowing anyway.

They quietly and quickly left the room, nodding politely to the court officer who held the door for them. As they walked down the hall, he explained, "Eckerson went down to the morgue, told Warner he needed to make an official ID for the DOJ."

"Standard shit," Olivia said, "Why do we..."

"He asked for a moment alone, Warner gave it to him, but when she went back into the room Eckerson was gone." He pushed the courthouse doors open and waited for her to pass him before walking in step next to her.

She was still confused. "El, I still don't see why we had to..."

"So was Victor's left thumb," he said, giving her a grim expression. "We need to find Eckerson, now."

"What could he need...fingerprints," she surmised. "He needs something that only Victor had access to, something locked with print identification."

"A safe, or a computer," Elliot said. "I knew it. I fucking knew it. That why he took that shot last night, after I told him I had it under control."

"He helped us because he needed Victor found, he needed his thumb," Olivia said as they got into their blue car.

Elliot pulled on his seat belt and turned the key, and then said, "You thought I shot him, didn't you?"

"What?" Olivia questioned, almost offended.

"I saw the look in your eyes when I told you Eckerson took the shot," he said, shifting gears and stepping on the gas. "You looked surprised."

She gave him a short, single laugh. "Yeah, surprised that he chopped off a guy's finger, not that he shot someone! El, how long have we been together?"

He licked his lips, letting his teeth scrape along his lower one.

"Partners," she said quickly. "I meant...as partners. I know you don't shoot-to-kill unless you have to, and you avoid it until it's your only option." She pulled her phone out of her pocket and said, "Get that look off your face."

He chuckled and shook his head. "It's a nice thought, you and me, together," he hazarded a glance at her, "Not just as partners."

"Yeah," she said flatly, holding up a finger as she raised the phone to her ear. "Christine? It's Olivia. Benson, yeah. Good, thanks, listen, do you guys use any fingerprint security at the office? Uh-huh, yeah, we are. Changing with the times, keeping up with the rest of the world. Okay, and individual marshals, do they have their own...yeah? And if anything happened to the person, how would all of that be...oh, that's interesting, thank you, you've been a huge help. I will. Yeah, we should. I'll call you, okay, bye."

"What the hell was that all about?" Elliot asked, whizzing through a yellow light.

"Chris Danielson," she said. "She just transferred to the US Attorney's office, federal level."

"I remember her," he said. "She moved up in the ranks, huh? I'll keep that in mind, we might need a string or two pulled a time or two." He laughed as he sped down the road. "What was all that about keeping up with the rest of the world?"

Olivia smirked. "I asked about fingerprint systems, she assumed I wanted to know because we were upgrading the hardware at the station. I didn't correct her."

"They'll serve snow-cones in hell before we upgrade anything in that place." He shook his head and made a sharp turn into a parking lot. "What did she say?"

Olivia unbuckled her seat-belt and opened her door. "All the doors in federal DOJ buildings use eye-scans or fingerprint systems, and each upper-level officer..."

"Like attorneys and marshals," Elliot said, slamming the driver's side door and heading over to Olivia.

"...has fingerprint ID and facial recognition on computers and agency-issue cell phones," Olivia continued.

"Anyone else have access to those things in the case of, uh, sudden demise?" Elliot asked, each step synchronized with Olivia's. He pushed the door to the station open and held it for her.

"The federal attorney in charge of his or particular jurisdiction, and any member of a higher authority," she said. "Eckerson isn't either of those things, which leads me to believe he needed to get information off of Victor's phone or computer before someone else got to it."

They were almost near the elevator when Elliot's phone rang. "Stabler," he said, answering it as he pushed the button on the wall to signal the elevator. "What?" His eyes widened a bit and he grabbed Olivia by the arm before she could step through the sliding metal doors. "Which way did he go?"

Olivia let out a surprised curse as Elliot pulled her back through the lobby. "Fill me in, here!" she yelled.

"Yeah, we're on it," he said, and he shoved the phone back into his pocket. "Around back, you go left, ready your arm."

"What's going on?" she asked, taking hold of her gun and drawing it up.

"Eckerson didn't take the finger! They found him knocked out in an empty exam room," Elliot said as they ran. "Morales pulled up cam footage, someone walked in just after Warner left Eckerson alone with Victor. He ran out five minutes later, they followed him with the cameras, caught him heading for the fire escape." They rounded one side of the building. "Go!" he yelled, pointing to his left. He headed right and hoped one of them would get there in time, and that they would finally catch a break. He rounded the corner, aiming his gun, but the first gunshot stopped him in his tracks. He heard two more, reverberating in the back-alley, and as his eyes widened, he lowered his gun. "Shit."

 _ **Peace and Love**_

 _ **Jo**_


	13. Chapter 13

_**Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction.**_

"His name was Steven Quince," Olivia said, handing a file to Cragen. She folded her arms and leaned against her desk. "Used to be in informant for Narcotics, then for the FBI."

Elliot looked at her, trying discern how "okay" she was, since every time he asked, that was her reply. He cleared his throat and looked toward the rest of the squad. "Eckerson told us that Quince was heavily involved in a few of Victor's recent cases. Gave him names and addresses, recorded conversations."

Olivia spoke again. "He wanted Victor's finger to get into his files, he was going to delete every mention of his name and sell witness identities to the people who, uh, would need them out of the way."

Fin looked at her with a raised eyebrow and a somewhat skeptical smirk. "He tell you that before or after you shot him?"

"Hey! Tucker cleared it, the kill was clean! She had to take the shot!" Elliot said before Olivia could talk. "We got the information from his brother. He said Quince told him everything, and that he even had a backup plan in case getting into the morgue didn't work."

Cragen stared down at the file. "How did he get in?"

"This," Olivia said, reaching out for the desk behind her. She grabbed an evidence bag and tossed it onto Munch's desk, so everyone could see it.

Munch blinked as he picked it up and examined it. "A real ID? Brett Chastain? Didn't he get fired and arrested a while back for..."

Elliot nodded and interrupted. "Tampering with evidence," he said. "We got a couple of guys heading over to Rikers to bring him down here." He ran a hand down his face as his laughing stopped. "When I got to Liv and saw...I thought it was over. He had a gun and I...I mean, what if he..."

"We know," Cragen said, not wanting to think anymore about what-ifs. "Is this guy's brother still in the..."

"Eckerson is questioning him," Olivia said, nodding. "We need to call Greylek." She yawned and combed her hair back with her fingertips. "This whole thing has to be presented in Lake's trial, which is going to complicate things."

"Speaking of the trial," Cragen said, pointing to Elliot and Olivia, "Go home. Both of you. You have to testify in the morning."

Fin scoffed. "Bet you'll have fun nailing Lake to the wall."

Elliot sighed. "I'm telling the truth, whether it points to innocence or guilt, Fin...I can't help that. I'm not going to skew things."

"Right," Fin huffed, shaking his head.

Elliot closed his eyes and sighed, then looked at Olivia, almost expectantly. "Need a lift?"

She straightened up and smiled. "Yeah, thanks." She grabbed her jacket and waved to the other people as she followed Elliot out of the room.

They were quiet as they walked, until they reached the elevator. He pushed the button on the wall and took a breath. "Okay," he said, turning to look at her. "It's just me, now. No judgement. Are you okay?"

"El," she sighed, rolling her eyes, "Yes, I'm fine. He shot at me, twice, he was going to do it again, but when you ran around the corner, he turned and aimed for you...I took the shot and I'd do it again." She looked him in the eyes. "I'm fine."

He smiled at her and said, "Okay. As long as you're...okay."

"What about you?" she asked, stepping into the elevator when the doors opened.

He followed her in and shrugged. "Everything is...over. My marriage, my involvement in Eli's life, this case, it's all just...over." He pressed his lips together and raised both eyebrows as he admitted, "And I'm okay."

She looked at him. "Really?"

"Well, I wouldn't be if I had to deal with it all on my own," he told her.

She gave him a small smile and said, "You know, you'll never have to deal with anything alone."

"Yeah," he said. "I know." He led her out when the elevator stopped, and again, silence fell between them during the walk to his car. He looked up at the few stars he could see in the dark sky. "They say...things have to end...so other things can begin."

"There's always another case," she said, chuckling slightly. "Always another monster out there."

"I didn't...I didn't just mean the case." He stopped just when they reached his car. He turned to her and held out a hand. He looked at her with tired, pleading eyes.

She gave her hand to him, exhaling slowly. Her body didn't fight at all when he pulled her toward him, and when he wrapped her in his arms, she sighed and relaxed into it. He always gave the best hugs, and they always felt like so much more that that. This one was no exception.

He squeezed her tighter, bent his head a bit, and whispered something into her ear.

It made her stiffen and push him away to look into his eyes, searching for something to tell her he was only kidding. What she saw was the most serious affirmation possible. She took a short, shaky breath, and then she nodded.

Trembling a bit, he moved, tilting his head and drawing closer. When his lips met hers, his shaking was more obvious and he let out a moan of relief and pure bliss.

Her arms slid up his body and looped around his neck, one hand began running through his short hair, almost soothing him, and she let a moan of her own escape.

He pulled away slowly and blinked his eyes open hesitantly, as if he was afraid to find he'd been imagining things. "Liv," he whispered.

She bit the corner of her bottom lip and nodded. "Take me home, El."

He laughed and pulled her door open for her. Running around to the driver's said, he tried to slow his heart and breathing. He got in, buckled up, and started the car. He had just pulled out of his parking spot when he heard something buzzing. "What the hell..." he squinted and looked around fast, but returned his eyes to the road. "Can you find out what that is?"

"Your phone," she said, digging it out from in between his hip and the seat. She licked her lips and chuckled when she caught the smirk on his face. "Calm yourself down," she teased. She looked down at his phone and said, "You must have left it in your car all day, El, you have six missed calls and twelve messages."

"Shit," he hissed, "From who?"

She tapped in his code and slid up the screen. "Kathy, your lawyer, Maureen, Kathy again, Dickie..." She stopped listing and started readin him his messages, mostly complaining from his kids, questions and concerns from Kathy, and his lawyer letting him know that no second hearing would be required and things would be settled and final in a few weeks. "Oh," she said, reading the last message from Kathy. "Oh, um, well...I don't...damn."

"What?" he asked, turning the wheel. "What is it?"

"This last message...um," she exhaled harshly and cleared her throat. "She's...she's legally changing Eli's last name."

The gleam of light that had been in his eyes faded, along with his smile. "Yeah," he said on a hard sigh. "I figured that...that was coming."

The rest of the drive to her place was spent in tense silence, partially perforated by the traces of comfort and compassion hanging between them as he hand fell to his knee and stayed there.

She had told herself that it would be a quiet night, that they would take turns in the shower and go right to bed. When they pulled up to her apartment, though, and she saw his eyes and nose turn red, her heart shattered. She unclipped her seat-belt and reached up, cupping his face with both hands. "El," she said softly. "Look at me."

A tear rolled down his cheek as he turned toward her. He took a quick breath and it came out with a stifled sob. He looked into her eyes and let his grip on the steering wheel loosen. The color returned to his knuckles as he dropped his hands into his lap.

She held back her own tears, caused by watching him in so much pain, and brushed the tips of her thumbs under his eyes. "The world just wasn't ready for another Elliot Stabler." She tried to smile at him.

He let out a single laugh with a cry, and he sniffled and shook. "I wasn't, either, until...until I had him in my arms and...because of you he was...and now he's..."

"Shh," she hushed, and when he fell into her and wrapped her in his arms, she let the tears she'd been holding prisoner go. Only for a moment, she gave in to her own emotions, but quickly pushed them aside and hugged him back. "Everything is going to be okay. Better, and..."

He had pushed back and kissed her, stopping her from saying what we cliché words of comfort she was going to attempt. His hands had tangled themselves in her hair and his tongue invaded her mouth and explored every possible bit.

She moaned, long and low, before pulling away from him and letting her head rest against his. They both struggled with labored breathing for a moment, and then she asked, "What was that for?"

"I just..." He paused and he looked at her, brushing her hair back. "I believed you. When you said it was gonna be okay, I...I believe you."

She smiled and backed away completely. "Come on," she said, jerking her head toward her apartment. "I'll make coffee, and we'll talk about what we need to..."

"I already know what I'm going to say tomorrow," he told her. "I know you do, too."

She rolled her eyes and nodded. "Can we just go inside, please?"

He chuckled. "Yeah," he said, opening his car door and getting out. He met her around the other side and took her hand, holding it the whole way up the walk, through the lobby, and up the stairs to her apartment. "Liv?" he questioned as she was opening her door.

"Yeah?" she answered, pushing it open and holding it for him.

He walked through the door, turning as she closed it. He moved fast, pressing into her and kissing her once, softly, on the lips. "I love you."

She watched, frozen, as he walked away, her brain blank and her heart pounding so hard and fast she felt it would burst. He'd said it before, so did she, but it held more weight now, more meaning, and different context.

He had just changed everything.

 ** _Peace and Love_**

 ** _Jo_**


	14. Chapter 14

_**Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction.**_

"What?" she managed to croak out with a dry throat.

He turned, his shirt fully unbuttoned, exposing his bare chest to her. "You heard me," he said, "Or you wouldn't look like you're about to throw up." He took a step toward her, smiling, and with three fingers he cupped her chin. "I love you," he said again, whispering this time. He moved fast, catching her lips before they could speak.

She moaned softly against his mouth, her eyes closed, and instinctively, she wrapped her arms around his neck. Her mind had gone blank the moment his lips touched hers, and no amount of trying could kickstart thought again. She melted against him, sighing into the kiss, caving.

He held her in his arms, kissing her slowly, trying to feed his emotions to her, make her feel them, prove they were real, and they were great. He pulled away when he needed to breathe, and he looked down into her eyes. There was a question in his gaze, one he needed her to answer.

"I love you," she heard herself say, though she was fairly certain she never trailed to speak. She blinked and swallowed a lump that had formed in her throat. She licked her lips, they still stung with the power of his kiss, and she took a breath before looking back at him again. "I love you," she repeated, fully aware this time.

He smiled and brushed the pad of his thumb over her lips. "Oh, I know you do," he said. "I've known, and I can't tell you how thank..."

A loud ringtone interrupted what would have been a romantic speech, and in response, he sighed and dropped his head to hers. He stayed there as he answered his phone. "Stabler," he said, and as softly as he could, he pressed his lips to Olivia's again. He sighed heavily and pulled away from her. "Yeah, yeah, I'm...we'll be right there."

She watched with interested eyes as he hung up and began to readjust his clothes. "What happened?" she asked, walking toward her bedroom. She flicked on the light and headed for the closet, pulling out a clean shirt for each of them. She tossed his to him, knowing he was right behind her.

He shrugged off the white button down and pulled the blue crew-neck she'd given him over his head. "Vic at Mercy General, says a homeless guy attacked her on Thirty-ninth Street." He kissed the back of her head and then stood back, watching her change.

She saw his grinning face out of the corner of her eye; she felt beautiful whenever he looked her, especially the way he was now. She felt his hands on her hips, felt herself being pulled into him.

He straightened out her shirt and then turned her around in his arms. With one last, long kiss, he said, "Back to work."

"Coffee," she said, blinking fast.

"Shit," he said as they walked through the apartment. "We have to testify, today. Cragen knows that, why would he..."

"He sent us home early, Munch and Fin are probably still dealing with..."

"Yeah, yeah," he chuckled, rolling his eyes. He held the door open for her, making sure it was locked before closing it behind him. He grabbed her hand as they walked down the hall. "It's just irritating," he said, rubbing his eyes hard with one balled fist. "I am...so tired."

"You've had a rough week," she said, "and we haven't been getting any sleep." She glanced down at their joined hands, smiled, and realized nothing had ever felt so right.

The morning was hellish. Their vic had changed her story several times before recanting it completely, finally admitting she'd only been trying to keep from getting in trouble for breaking her curfew to spend the night with her boyfriend.

Yawning, the pair walked into the courtroom, falling into the first row on the prosecution side. "At least they're here on time," Elliot grumbled, catching sight of Trevor Langan whispering something to Lake.

"This shouldn't take long," Olivia said, stifling another yawn. "We're up first."

"This could take all day," he replied, shaking his head. "Especially in light of the new evidence."

She cringed. "Right," she said, "I forgot about that."

They rose on command, watching the judge walk into the room and up to his bench. They looked at each other as they sat back down, silently passing along mental messages. They watched, trying to stay awake, as the opening moments passed.

"Prosecution calls Detective Elliot Stabler to the stand." Kim Greylek turned and fired a horribly threatening look at him as he walked up to the witness box.

He smoothed out his tie, cleared his throat, and waited for the attorney to ask her first question. He was in no mood for games or for dealing with a newbie with a chip on her shoulder.

"Detective Stabler," Greylek began, "When did you discover Chester Lake had been involved in the investigation of cold cases?"

"My partner and I were called to an officer-involved incident," Elliot said, folding his hands. "The shooter was Detective Lake, and when he refused to give his side of the story, our investigation into the connection between him and the victim brought his group into light."

"What group is that, Detective?" Greylek asked, her arms crossed.

Elliot looked at her with a stone face. "The Vidocq Society," he said. "Bunch of cops who get together once-a-month or so, in Philadelphia, in attempt to solve cases that have gone cold."

"And it was this group that led to Lake's involvement in the shooting of Detective Edward Kralik," Greylek assumed with a nod.

"Yes," Elliot said.

"Objection!" Langan yelled, standing. "Your Honor, that was a different case, and has already gone to trial!"

"Goes to motive, Your Honor," Greylek said defensively.

"Overruled," the judge declared. "Miss Greylek, keep your line of questioning relevant to the this particular case from now on."

She nodded and looked back at Elliot. "Would you say that Lake's murder of Thomas Crane was a direct result of the outcome of that trial?"

"I believe it was part of his reason," Elliot said. "I'm sure there were other..."

"So your answer is yes?" Greylek asked. "In the time that you've known Chester Lake, how often has he exhibited violence or violent tendencies?"

Elliot squinted a bit and gave her a questioning smile. "As a cop, there's always what could be considered..."

"Answer the question," Greylek demanded.

"He didn't seem to be any more or less violent than the rest of us," Elliot said, trying to be as honest as he could without being forced to railroad Lake.

Greylek took a step toward him. "Did you know he used to be a mixed-martial arts fighter? That he spent his nights and weekends pummeling other people into a bloody pulp?"

Elliot scoffed. "I'm aware," he said, "It's a sport. I played high-school football, and I'm a marine, does that mean I enjoy..."

"Detective Stabler," Greylek interrupted, "According to your initial testimony, Lake was uncooperative and made threats against you and your partner from the moment he walked into your unit."

Elliot couldn't believe his ears. "That wasn't what I..."

Greylek held up a hand and lifted a sheet of paper so she could read it. "From the first day he worked with us, he seemed to think he knew the city and the job better than us, tried to give orders, and threatened us when we didn't comply." She looked up at Elliot. "That's what you said, correct?"

Elliot huffed, slumped back into his seat, and pulled on his tie again. "Out of context, but yes, I said that."

Greylek gave a smug smile. "What was your initial reaction when you found out that Lake was going behind the backs of everyone in your unit and working cases without you?"

"I thought he must have taken one to many shots to the head in the ring to want to work when he didn't have to," Elliot said, smirking when he heard laughter fill the room. "And I thought he was a special kind of person, because I couldn't do it. It takes a lot to reopen a case other people have given up on, when all the evidence had been exhausted, and to find out the truth leads back to dirty cops?" He shook his head. "I can't say I wouldn't have done exactly what Lake did."

Greylek gave him a steamed look. "No further questions," she said, a bit of disgust in her words.

As she sat, Langan stood and walked toward Elliot. "Detective Stabler," he said, holding out both hands, "Recently, your investigation led you to another memeber of Law Enforcement, a former US Marshal, to be specific." He looked at the jury and smiled and then turned back to Elliot. "In your professional opinion, is it possible that he was behind this entire thing? That Detective Lake was only defending himself to keep from..."

"What's the question?" Elliot interrupted, leaning forward.

Langan glared at him. "Do you believe that Detective Lake's victim, as the prosecution called him, could have been sent to kill Lake by the mastermind you unearthed during your investigation?"

"It's possible," Elliot said, nodding.

"So it's entirely possible that Detective Lake killed Thomas Crane in self defense?" Langan asked.

"Crane tried to kill Lake, twice," Elliot said, honestly. "I wouldn't put it past him to try a third time."

Langan nodded. "In the same deposition that the, uh, charming prosecutor quoted, you also...let me be sure, here," he said, lifting a copy of the same papers Greylek had. "You also said, Lake is clearly a dedicated detective, who would do absolutely anything to get justice for a victim or prevent someone from becoming one."

"Yes," Elliot said, and he looked at Lake, who smiled at him almost gratefully.

Langan cleared his throat. "So then I ask you the same question I posed to the jury in my opening statement," he said. "Do you believe that Detective Lake did exactly that? That he took his oath as a cop seriously, seeking rightful justice when the judiciary system failed to do so, ensuring no one else fell victim to Thomas Crane?"

Elliot glanced at Lake, took a breath, and looked back at Langan. "I think that's exactly what he did."

"No further questions," Langan said, smirking as he sat down.

Greylek stood fast. "Redirect, Your Honor!"

The judge eyed her for a moment. "Go on," he said.

Greylek moved toward Elliot. "Are you saying, Detective Stabler, that you condone Lake's actions?"

"No, I don't condone murder, not in any situation, if there's another way," he said. "But I understand why it happened. I know, as a cop, our lives are at risk, and if it's me or the other guy, then you can be damn certain that I wouldn't hesitate to..."

"If there was another way? What do you mean, Detective?" Greylek folded her arms and narrowed her eyes at him.

Elliot shifted in his seat. "There are cases where it's justified, where it's not murder, it's self-defense or in the defense of someone else, and the only action you can take is..."

"To take a life," Greylek said. "Do you have any evidence at all to suggest that Thomas Crane was the aggressor? That he had gone after Lake?"

Elliot froze. He knew he had to answer, and he knew what Fin would say about it. "No," he sighed.

"In fact, isn't it true, Detective Stabler, that all of the evidence you accrued in your investigation proved that Chester Lake lured Thomas Crane to that back alley, that Thomas Crane was unarmed and not expecting an altercation, and that the murder was, in fact, premeditated?"

With another sigh, Elliot cleared his throat. He looked at Lake, looked at the judge, and then glanced at Olivia before closing his eyes. "Yes."

With a victorious smirk, Greylek said, "No more questions."

"Reexamine?" The judge looked at Langan, who shook his head. "Then you may step down, Detective Stabler."

Elliot hopped off the stand fast, heading right for his seat next to Olivia.

She stood up quickly. "Don't bother," she said. "We have to go."

"Now? Again?" he questioned. "Why?"

She bit her lip and pulled him by the arm toward the doors of the courtroom.

"Where are we going?" he asked, trying to pull his arm back.

"Mercy General," she said.

He rolled his eyes and groaned. "If it's that girl again, I'm not going to..."

"It's not," she said. Once they were out of the court house she looked at him. "It's...it's not."

"Liv," he said, seeing the look in her eyes. "What is it?"

She took a breath and looked into his eyes. "Andy." She licked her lips. "Someone shot him."

 ** _Peace and Love_**

 ** _Jo_**


	15. Chapter 15

_**Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction.**_

Elliot took a sip of his lukewarm hospital cafeteria coffee, licked his lips, and then handed it to Olivia. "I thought he got on a plane back to..."

"He never made it," she interrupted, brining the cup to her lips. "He canceled his flight, extended his stay at his hotel."

"How the hell do you know that?" he asked, unable to make it sound any less jealous than it was.

She raised an eyebrow and gave him the coffee. "Fin told me," she said, and then added, "When he looked into where Andy was, and why he was still in the city. You know, after he got shot?"

"Right," Elliot sighed, taking a long from the Styrofoam cup. He cleared his throat and mumbled, "I'm sorry." There was a moment of awkward silence before he leaned over to her and whispered, "We can't hang around much longer, what time do we have to be back at the courthouse? You still have to..."

"Yeah," she nodded, taking the coffee out of his hands and taking a sip. "Two O'clock," she told him. She took another sip and grimaced. "This shit makes the crap at the station seem like Starbucks."

He laughed as he took it from her. "It's getting the job done," he said, and then downed the final mouthful. He ran a hand down his face, dragging his groomed nails over his chin for a moment, then turned and threw the empty cup in a trash can next to his chair. He looked up and down the hallway, poking the inside of his cheek with his tongue and pulling down the sleeves of his dark blue suit jacket.

"What?" she questioned, not looking over at him. She knew something was on his mind, she could tell. She flicked the hair out of her eyes and smoothed a few wrinkles out of her light blue button-down, picking at a loose thread near the last button.

"What do you mean, what?" he asked in return, turning his head toward her. He made a face and swatted at her hands. "Stop that, you're going to pull the button off," he said, and then he met her eyes. "Not that I would mind, uh, under a different circumstance."

She rolled her eyes and laughed, but then crossed her arms and sat back in her chair. "What's the matter with you?" She gave a short shrug. "Something is bugging you."

"Just wondering why the fuck he was still here," Elliot said with a knitted brow. "We closed the case, well, all but figuring out Chastain's involvement. We haven't gotten that part figured out, yet."

"He probably had to work this all out in the New York office, get into those files to find out what Quince didn't want anyone to see." She looked at him and noticed a bit of skepticism in his eyes. "You...you think he was hanging around because of me?"

All Elliot gave her was a slight, one-shouldered shrug.

"He barely said two words to me the entire time he was with us," she said, scoffing at him and the ridiculous accusation. "Besides, he would need to wait a hell-of-a-lot longer than two days, if that's what he was after."

The tension in his eyes eased up and he smiled at her. "Yeah," he said. "I know." He noticed a figure heading toward them and turned his head, instantly sitting up straight and rigid. He backhanded Olivia in the side lightly, making her aware of who had approached them. "What's the story, Doc?"

Eckerson's doctor looked at Elliot and held his clipboard down with crossed hands. "Three shots," he said with a tilt of his head. "Two were direct hits. One hit right in the dead-center of his left knee, clear through the patella." He looked at Olivia. "The other was lodged in his right shoulder, a lot of damage to his rotator cuff and surrounding muscles."

"What about the third one?" Olivia asked, and then pressed her lips together, anticipating the answer.

The doctor sighed. "We pulled a fragment, albeit a large one, out of his right lung. Entered through his side, hit at the perfect angle to zip between his ribs and slice through his lung. We...we repaired most of the damage, but we won't know what kind of injuries he truly sustained until he wakes and can breathe entirely on his own."

"Thanks," Olivia said, nodding at him. She stood up, tugging down her blazer, and shoved her hands into the pockets of her black slacks. "We need to take his personal effects with us. His clothes and his..."

"Of course," the doctor interrupted, nodding. "Ask at the nurse's station, they'll get you what you need."

She smiled and watched the doctor turn and walk away, and then she spoke to Elliot. "Arm and leg," she said. "Disarm..."

"Disable," Elliot said, nodding. He scraped his teeth over his bottom lip, shaking his head. "He was shot by someone trained. Cop maybe? Another marshal gone bad?"

"Let's go," she sighed, raking her fingers through her hair, "And find out." She slapped him in the shoulder and began walking toward the large desk at the end of the hallway.

They filled out the necessary forms and gathered Eckerson's things, dropping the large plastic bags into an even bigger paper one. Elliot, the gentleman, carried it as they walked side-by-side through the corridor and out of the building.

They were quiet until they got into their car, Elliot tossing the bag carefully onto the backseat. He started the car, but before he pulled it out of park, he looked over at Olivia. He watched her put her seatbelt on and once he was sure she was settled, he reached out a hand and brushed her hair behind her ear. "Are you okay?"

She nodded. "I wouldn't be, if it was you laying in that hospital bed with a hunk of metal breathing for you." She swallowed hard and twisted her head to look at him. "Drive."

He waited a few moments, and then he moved, stretching over the center console of the vehicle and placing a single, soft kiss to her lips. "It's not me," he whispered.

She smiled and nodded at him, lifting one hand and brushing the back of it lightly across his cheek. "I know," she whispered. "Drive."

He laughed as he sat up straight, latched his own safety belt, and finally pulled out of the parking space. He took the shortest route he could, dropping off the bag of Eckerson's belongings at the lab with a list of requests. He checked his watch as he ran back to the car, smiling at Olivia who had waited there for him as he started it up. "We got time for a cup of coffee."

She looked up at the roof of the car. "Thank God," she chuckled. "I didn't tell you, you...you handled yourself...perfectly this morning." She glanced at him. "Greylek tried to push your buttons and you just..."

"I wouldn't have been so calm," he said, stopping her. "You, uh, you kept me grounded. Just knowing you were there, and I don't know how to explain it, but somehow...hearing you say..." He stopped, swallowed, and took a deep breath. "Hearing you tell me those three, little words? I keep hearing them, over-and-over in my head. Puts me at ease."

She smiled, but looked down at her lap. "You said it first," she said softly. "You don't know what...what went through my head." She looked back up and twisted her hands together. "You've said it before, we...we both have, but something in the way you said it last night...my heart stopped." She turned her head toward him again, and as he pulled the car into the courthouse parking lot, she said, "Last night, it was different."

He nodded, turning the key and killing the engine. He bit his lip as he looked at her. "Yeah, yeah, it was. It was heavier, more..." he paused and looked into her eyes. "I needed you to know how much I meant it. I mean it."

She grinned. "I know. I know, I do, too." She made the move this time, unhooking her seatbelt and leaning over to him, gently pressing her lips to his. "You're paying for the coffee," she said, winking at him.

He laughed as he watched her get out of the car, following a moment after and catching up to her at the vendor's cart. "Two, strong," he said, pulling out flipping through a thin stack of cash for a five-dollar-bill.

Olivia took the foam cups from the man behind the cart with a smile and a nod, setting them down on the small, metal shelf. She fixed them, exactly the same way, with a lot of milk and two packets of sugar. She dropped a red, plastic stirring stick into each cup and swirled them around. She picked one up and brought it to her lips while carefully handing the other to Elliot.

He took it from her with a wink, and waved off the vendor's attempt at handing him his change. He took a few steps, knowing she'd follow, and led her to a wrought iron bench on the sidewalk in front of the courthouse steps. "I, uh, have to go to the house tonight. Get a few more bags of my stuff."

Olivia let out a long breath. "Yeah, um, only so many times you can wear your _Ramones_ tee-shirt, right?"

He laughed and dropped one of his hands to her knee. He moved his thumb back-and-forth, caressing, and sipped his coffee. After he swallowed he said, "I'm gonna spend a couple hours with my kids. Maybe take them out for a late dinner or...or something. Do you..."

"No," she said, looking away from him. "No, you...you have a lot to explain to them, talk to them about, and...they'd only have more questions if I was there. So, uh, no. Thanks for asking, though."

"Honestly, I think they'd have more questions if you weren't there," he told her. He sighed, took another sip of coffee, and said, "It's probably just going to be Lizzie and...Rich." He snorted. "He wants to be called Rich, now."

"He's growing up," she said with a smile and a shrug. "You didn't think he would be sweet, little 'Dickie' forever, did you?"

"Well, you know, I was hoping," he said, making a dismissive face, and then he laughed. It was short-lived; he looked down and started playing with the plastic stirrer in his cup. "I thought...Eli..." He coughed and let his teeth scrape over his lip. "He was my chance to get it right. To be there, all the way. No mistakes, no let-downs, no disappointments. No missed games or forgotten..." He stopped, his words catching in his throat. "My kids, they're always going to resent me and this job."

"They love you," she said, narrowing her eyes and moving closer to him. "El, you are a great father. You were...and are there for them, always, and they know that." She shook her head quickly for a second. "I can count on one hand the number of your kids' games or events that you missed, and you had a damn good reason every time. You didn't blow them off to go to a bar or out with your Marine buddies, you were saving lives, being a hero, and your children, Elliot, brag about that like you wouldn't believe."

"You think so?" he asked, still staring at his coffee.

"How many times did we have to go talk to their classes, huh?" She smiled and chuckled a bit. "How many times did they volunteer us for career day, or bring you and your badge in for show-and-tell?" She elbowed him and said, "They're proud of you, and they are proud to be your children." She leaned closer. "You already got it right," she whispered to him, "Four times."

Slowly, he looked up at her, and a smile crawled along his face. "You're incredible," he said, and then he grew smug. "And you're right." He chewed on the inside of his cheek, staring at her, and he exhaled slowly before taking a sip of his coffee. "Gotta admit. It's been a fucking shitty year."

"Yeah," she agreed with a firm nod and harsh breath.

"The accident," he said, taking a deep breathe. "Sealview," he whispered, gripping her knee tighter. "Rook."

"You went blind for a week," she said, biting her lip hard and trying to forget how worried, scared, and pissed off she had been over it. "God, when I thought..."

"Can I tell you something without you freaking out on me?" He had cut her off, and his hand slipped up her thigh.

She tilted her head and narrowed her eyes, but she nodded.

"When I woke up," he blinked, remembering, "I heard your voice, but I...I couldn't see anything. I swear, for a split second I thought you...I thought you were the one..." He moved his hand to grab hers. "I thought I was holding your hand. But then it all registered, and when I realized it was Kathy..." He looked at her and shrugged sheepishly. "I was so fucking disappointed."

They shared a laugh and she gave his hand a squeeze. "I'm holding your hand now," she said, "And I'm never letting go."

He trembled as a chill ran up his spine and goosebumps spread over his body. "Neither am I," he whispered. "Well, uh, maybe for five minutes or so, so you can go in there and knock that jury on its ass." He winked at her as he stood up, pulling her with him. He led her up the stairs, begrudgingly letting go of her hand before they walked through the doors.

They made their way through security, and then down the hall, heading for the courtroom where Lake's trial was being held. They were about to walk through the wooden doors when a panicked voice stopped them. At once, they turned, surprised to see Captain Cragen.

"Eckerson okay?" Cragen asked, folding his arms.

Olivia sighed. "For now," she said. "He's hooked up to a lot of machines and he's...not awake yet."

Cragen ran a hand across his forehead. "Listen, uh, it's not looking good for Lake. Just...answer the questions, straightforward, and..."

"Did you think I wouldn't?" she interrupted, mildly offended.

"No, but I have to warn you," Cragen said, "Fin is on my ass about his transfer, and he has to testify tomorrow. He's taking this whole thing personally, especially since, thanks to you dumping his LUDs, Greylek plans to treat him like an accomplice when he takes the stand. His testimony might end up being more damaging to Lake than anything either of you have to say."

Elliot squinted. "How the hell...how do you know that? Why would she do that?"

Cragen shoved his hands in his pockets. "Because," he said, "I'm the one who told her to do it."

 _ **Peace and Love**_

 _ **Jo**_


	16. Chapter 16

_**Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction.**_

"Why do I feel like I was the one on trial in there?" Olivia asked, practically ripping off her black blazer. Her body stiffened and Elliot, next to her, could feel the heat radiating off of her, a true sign of her anger.

He ran one hand down her back, slowly, coming to a stop just before he landed on her ass. He pulled it away fast as he let his other hand cup her chin. "Breathe," he said. "You were amazing in there. You put that bitch in her place, you know you did, and you answered her questions without once giving her what she wanted." He pulled her closer, kissed her softly, and said, "You gave that jury a lot to think about." He kissed her cheek again. "Do you want to go back in there and listen to Fin's..."

"No," she interrupted adamantly. "No, I won't be able to control myself when she starts railroading him." She took a step back, keeping a professional distance from him in case anyone was around, and she sighed. "I was thinking, instead of waiting for the verdict we both know is coming, we should head back to the lab, check on the ballistics and see what trace there was on Andy's clothes."

"I got someone in TARU working on his computer and dumping phone records," he told her, leaning down to pick up her discarded jacket. He shook it out and folded it over his arm. "CSU dropped off a box of things from his hotel room that might be..."

The doors to their right flew open with a loud slamming sound, and people began filtering out into the hallway. They both stood up straighter, confused, and looked for a familiar face. "Captain?" Elliot called, seeing Cragen appear in the doorway.

Cragen sighed with crossed arms as he headed over to them. "Recess," he said with a harsh exhalation. "Now, I have to go beg Tucker for another fucking favor, smooth this all over with the COD, and I have never been more tempted to sign off on a transfer than..."

"Hold on," Olivia interrupted with a furrowed brow. "What happened in there?"

"I thought you..." Cragen began, and then he shook his head and scratched at his chin. "The two of you weren't in there?"

"No," Elliot said, clear and honest. "What's going on?"

Cragen ran the hand on his chin back up his face and across his forehead. "Fin," he said. "Greylek asked him two questions before he lost his temper. He refused to cooperate, the judge...handed down an order of contempt."

"El and I have been held in contempt before, Cap," Olivia said. "It's never as bad as you..."

"No," Cragen said, pointing a finger at them. "When it was you, it was because you were standing up for the victims, or you just pissed off the judge. This time...this is serious. I'm not sure I'll be able to get him out of this without leaving the mark on his record."

Olivia looked at Cragen, biting her lip, and then turned to Elliot. "Should we..."

"We could," Elliot said, stopping her, "The way he's been treating us? I'm not doing him any favors."

"We'd be doing it for Cragen," she said softly.

Elliot looked at her, and his resolve crumbled. "Fine," he said. "We'll stop in and pay Tucker a visit on the way to the lab." He gave her a light shove toward the main doors of the courthouse and looked at Cragen. "I'll call you in about ten minutes, go...uh, go stay with Fin."

Cragen watched, confused, as they walked down the hall and out of the central doors. He shook his head as he headed to the room where they were holding Fin, wondering what the hell Olivia and Elliot were up to.

Less than three hours later, Elliot was sitting at his desk pouring over financial documents and cell phone records, Olivia was reading through Eckerson's Day Runner, and they were quietly sharing thoughts and ideas when they found something interesting. Their intimate investigation was interrupted, though, when Cragen and Fin entered the room, shouting at each other.

Olivia looked up first, wide-eyed and stiff, and Elliot only turned around to watch after seeing the concern on Olivia's face. "What is..."

"And you!" Fin fumed. "Don't think this means all is forgiven! You did me a favor, whatever, but you're still an asshole!"

Elliot's eyes widened. "You're welcome," he said sarcastically, and then looked at Cragen. "Verdict come in? Or is he just being his warm, friendly self?"

Cragen held up a hand, giving Elliot a warning look. "Fin, my office, now!"

Fin mumbled something under his breath as he stomped toward Cragen's door, walking into the office and slamming it behind him.

Cragen let out a held breath and looked at Elliot. "What did you say to Tucker?"

Elliot shrugged and said, "I told him the truth. Fin was under a lot of pressure, he had to testify against his partner, and Greylek was asking very pointed questions that made him snap."

"I don't know why or how you go on his good side, but thanks," Cragen said. "As for Lake...guilty. Second degree murder. Twenty-five to fifty." He ran a hand down his face, shaking his head. "Jury was polled, they all agree it was premeditated but they don't believe that Lake is a killer, that he only acted out of a desire for justice, and I can't...I can't say I disagree."

"Is that what's up Fin's ass?" Elliot asked. "We knew the verdict wouldn't be a good one, not in this case," he said.

Cragen licked his lips. "Fin has a lot of pent up rage, mostly directed at you," he told Elliot. "I have to decide what's best for this unit, not what's going to spare anyone's feelings, get me?"

Elliot nodded. "We got something on this," he said, gesturing to his desk, "When you're done with Fin."

Cragen nodded and then turned toward his office.

Olivia and Elliot jumped at the sound of the slamming door, looked at each other, and shrugged. "He, uh, he had a meeting," she said, slowly sitting back down in her seat. "At the hotel, around the same time he was shot." She handed the planner to Elliot. "All it says is '208, AR, 10AM."

"AR?" Elliot asked in a whisper. "208 is his room number, what the hell is AR?"

Munch, who until now had kept his distance from both cases, walked over to them and lowered his head a bit. He leered at them over the rims of his glasses. "Why are the two of you working Eckerson's case? I'm alone on a rape-homicide here, and I could use some help from the Dynamic Duo."

Elliot chuckled. "It was kicked over to us because of its connection to Lake." He looked up at Munch. "How can we help you, John?"

"One of you, please go talk to the girl's parents?" He handed Elliot a torn notebook page with a scrawled address. "I tried, and all they did was cry and yell at me."

"Sure," Elliot said with a smile, and then Olivia's voice got his attention. "What?"

"I said," she began, "It's initials. AR." She looked back down at a few open notes on her desk and nodded.

"Whose?" Elliot asked.

"Alfonso Ruiz," she said, holding out a printed list of names. "He's the ESU Lieutenant, his guys were after Lake when he took off with Cruz." She held up another file. "He was also a CO at Rikers back in '06, guess who his primary contact in the US Marshal's office was?"

Elliot took the file out of her hand. "Fuck me," he spat, dragging his hand across his face. "We need to find out what the fuck was on his computer, worth killing three people over." He checked his watch and stood fast. "Let's go talk to these people," he said, holding up the address Munch had given him, "Hopefully, when we get back, TARU will have something we can use."

She nodded at him, but just as she grabbed her phone off of her desk, it rang. She looked down and rolled her eyes, answering the call with a bitter spitting-out of her last name. "Benson." She listened and she cringed. "That's...that's nice of you. You don't...no, we, uh...we always told you that." She snapped her fingers and pointed to the door, telling Elliot she was ready to go.

He walked with her, listening to her one-sided conversation. He led her to the elevator, pushed the button, and then gave her a curious look as he mouthed, "Who is it?"

"Kathy," she mouthed back to him, giving him another roll of her eyes. She held up a finger and spoke into the phone, "He said that? Well, yeah, it's..." She looked at Elliot, her heart thudded, and she knew exactly what to say. "If that's really what he wants, then...we'll come pick him up, tonight. You know, Elliot asked his lawyer for...yeah. Next week? That soon? No, no, it's...fine, Kathy. I will." She hung up without saying goodbye, and she walked through the elevator's sliding metal doors without another word.

"You just going to pretend nothing happened?" he asked, crossing his arms. He leaned against the wall of the elevator and leaned closer to her. "What the hell did she want?"

Olivia took a deep breath, slowly exhaled, and said, "Dickie told her...he wants to stay with you. Me. Um, us." She scraped her teeth over her lip, looked at him, and tilted her head. "El, Dickie can stay on the couch for now, but what about your other kids? You were supposed to look for..."

"I guess," he interrupted, "I thought if I ignored it, it would all...work itself out." He bit the inside of his cheek and looked down at a spot on the elevator floor. "I don't really think I have a snowball's chance in hell at getting the kids for anything other than a weekend-a-month, anyway."

She reached up and cupped his face, feeling the jerk and rock of the elevator stopping as soon as she touched his skin. "She said...she said there's no need for a hearing. She said she wants to work out a schedule that works, for you and her. She's not going to keep the kids from you. I just wish you..."

Her words were stopped, his lips had sealed over hers, his tongue had invaded her mouth. He would have made a more bold move, but the doors opened. He pulled away from her and smiled at her. "What did you say? We're picking Dickie up tonight?"

She nodded, following him out of the elevator, though she was more focused on her tingling lips and hot cheeks than what he'd said. "He wants...you, El. He wants to be with his father."

He turned to look at her. "You're okay with that? Me in your bed, my son on your couch, two Stabler men are harder to handle than one."

She laughed as they walked out of the station and into the city, feeling the rush of crisp fall air hit her. "I'm sure I can handle you." She turned and headed for the car when someone tapped her on the shoulder. She turned, and her eyes widened. "Casey!"

Casey Novak gave a sad smile. "I came down here to say goodbye, but I guess it's not a good time."

"Goodbye?" Olivia asked, shocked.

Casey held up a briefcase. "Have to turn in all my files on closed SVU cases, leave my open ones for Greylek, and I wanted to...thank you, both, for always...being there."

"This isn't permanent, Case," Olivia said, "We can find a way around..."

"Until we do," Casey said, "You two take care of yourselves, and each other." She smiled and waved at them as she turned to head into the police station.

Olivia watched her walk into the building, and then turned to look at Elliot. She blinked once and then started to get into the car. It seemed that just as part of her world was building itself up, the rest of it was falling apart.

"You okay?" Elliot asked, settling into the driver's seat. He buckled his seat belt and waited for an answer.

She looked at him, seeing something shining in his eyes. She smiled and nodded, knowing that he would be there to keep her from falling completely. "Drive," she said. "The sooner we get this all out of the way, the sooner we can go pick up your son," she eyed him for a moment, her face softened, "and take him home."

"Home," he said, smiling back at her. He nodded once and hit the gas, hoping the night would go by fast. There was something, he realized, he needed to do, and it needed to be done tonight.

 ** _Peace and Love_**

 ** _Jo_**


	17. Chapter 17

_**Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction.**_

Dickie was the first one in the apartment, after pushing his father and Olivia out of the way. He flipped the light switch on the wall with his elbow and dropped his bags next to a table near the side wall. He yawned, ignoring the conversation between the two people behind him, and walked over to the sofa. He plopped onto it and kicked off his shoes, pushing them under the coffee table with one socked foot.

Olivia turned after she hung her coat on the hook behind the door, and raised one eyebrow. "Make yourself at home, kid," she said with a chuckle.

Dickie looked up at her and grinned. "Already have, Liv," he said, smirking at her in a way that echoed his father.

She shook her head and craned her neck back to look at Elliot. "No question," she said. "That one's yours."

He laughed and moved in to plant a soft kiss on her forehead. "Yeah, he is," he said, and he ran one hand up and down her arm. He took a few steps and dropped a bag of takeout onto the coffee table. "You were the one complaining about being hungry," he said to his son. "Eat."

"Dad," Dickie said, rolling his eyes, "I wanted pizza or a burger or...I thought maybe Liv would cook something."

"You've met me, before, right?" Olivia said with a small laugh. She pushed up the sleeves of her light blue v-necked sweater and folded her arms across her chest again.

Dickie smiled and shook his head. "Yeah, I have," he said, and he started digging through the bag. "China Garden," he scoffed, picking out a carton of food and a pair of chopsticks. "How many days a week should I expect this for dinner?"

"From that place?" Elliot called from the kitchen, as he grabbed two bottles of beer and a soda for his son. He continued as he walked back over to the couch. "Once. There are two other Chinese places we, uh, frequent more often. But takeout itself? Four or five."

"So my days of getting a home cooked meal are over," Dickie said with a mouthful.

"Manners," Olivia said, nudging him with her elbow. She took one of the bottles from Elliot and drank a long sip.

Dickie moved, letting her sit between him and his father. After swallowing his food, he looked at her. "I'll be much more polite when I'm done eating." He heard his father and Olivia laugh, took another bite of food, and then sighed. "Thank you."

"Huh?" Elliot said, his arm looped around Olivia. "What for?"

"Liv," Dickie said. He looked at her and his eyes were filled with clear sincerity. "Thank you. You don't have to let me stay here, and I...I know why you are. I just...um, thank you." He cleared his throat and shoved his chopsticks back into his lo mein and then into his mouth.

Olivia smiled softly at him and then turned to Elliot. She was about to speak, but her cell phone rang. She shifted a bit to get it out of her pocket. "Benson," she said, answering the call. She got up and took another swig of her beer as she moved into the kitchen to speak.

Elliot watched her, curious, but moved closer to his son. "So, uh, you didn't say much when we left your mother's house," he said. "Did something happen with her?"

Dickie was silent as he shoved more noodles into his mouth.

Elliot pressed on. "Why'd you want to move here, with me?"

Dickie shrugged, chewing. "I just couldn't be in that house anymore." He swallowed and looked at his father. "It's just me with all those girls, Dad. And that guy. The one who..." He didn't know what to call him, how to bring him up.

"Eli's real father," Elliot barely whispered.

Dickie nodded. "He's there. All the time. He tries to treat us like his family and it's so pathetic." His nostrils flared and he slammed his half-empty food carton down onto the coffee table. "I hate him! I hate what he did to our family. And I hate what Mom did to us, to you." He looked at him again. "You had, like, a million chances to sleep with Liv, and you didn't. I know, at least, if you ever did, love would be the reason."

"Yeah," Elliot said with a smile.

Dickie kept talking. "We know her, you've been with her for years! We don't know this guy, at all, and he's trying to be..."

"Kiddo," Elliot interrupted, "Your mother made a mistake. We were...separated."

"She lied to you," Dickie spat. "She lied to all of us. For over a year, Dad! Now, she wants us to make nice with this guy? No way." He sighed and crossed his arms. "And no, I'm not just choosing to be with you because you're the lesser of two evils. I just...I really need you, Dad."

Elliot closed his eyes and pulled Dickie into a hug. "I love you," he whispered.

"Love you, too," Dickie said, awkwardly shoving his father back when Olivia started to walk back to the couch. He turned his attention back to his food.

Elliot looked up at her when he realized she wasn't going to sit down. "What?" he asked. "What is it?"

"That was Cragen," she said, and then she bit her lip. She chewed on it for a moment, took a breath, and looked at Dickie. "Sweetie, why don't you try to get some sleep in my bedroom, okay?"

Dickie rolled his eyes. "Could have just asked me to leave the room." He put his empty container on the coffee table and stomped off, heading for the bedroom.

"Okay," Elliot said, sitting up straighter. "What happened?"

"Fin and Munch got a call. They found Ruiz," she told him. "They, um, they had a standoff. Shots were fired, and, uh..."

"Liv, come on," he said, reaching for her hand. "What's going on?"

"Ruiz was killed in the crossfire," she said, taking his hand. "When they searched his place, they found a stack of old city ID badges, everything from sanitation workers to lawyers. They took his computer, along with a couple of hard drives. TARU has them, they'll keep us posted." She took a breath. "Fin was the one who shot Ruiz, and he's telling Tucker...it was his last case with SVU." She looked at him. "You need to go talk to him. You're the only one who can make..."

"I can't make him do anything," he said; he was brushing the side of her hand with his thumb. "You know, with this job, you have to be able to trust the people you work with. He doesn't trust me, and after finding out he tipped off Lake, I don't know how much I trust him."

She gave his hand a squeeze. "Just...try? For me?"

He leaned in, kissed her softly, and said, "On one condition."

"Name it," she said, with her forehead pressed against his.

"Now that this whole thing with Lake is over, this trail of breadcrumbs he left is gone," he paused and took a deep breath, "Go to dinner with me tomorrow night. Just you and me. Like a, um, well...a date."

She smiled but tried to hide it. "We're just going to leave your son all alone on his second night here?"

"He's staying at a friend's house for some sci-fi movie marathon, tomorrow night," he told her. "We can...take care of this," he said, squeezing her hand and kissing her gently again. "Of each other."

She nodded and kissed his lips. "Okay," she said, trying to hide her nervous excitement. "Please, go talk to Fin."

He ran his tongue along his gums and teeth, nodding. He kissed her, a longer and deeper kiss, and got off of the couch. "I'll try." He bent down and kissed her forehead, and then headed for the door, grabbing his coat on his way out. He had no clue what to say to Fin, but he needed to figure it out fast.

 ** _Peace and Love_**

 ** _Jo_**


	18. Chapter 18

_**Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction.**_

"So that's it, then, I guess," Olivia sighed, placing her water glass back down on the cream-colored tablecloth. She folded her hands, twisting her fingers as she looked up at Elliot.

"I tried," he said with a small shrug. "He refused to talk to me, called me a bunch of names I could've arrested him for, and then he walked into Cragen's office and slammed the door in my face." He scraped his teeth over his bottom lip and shook his head. "Cragen still refused to sign off on his transfer, so for now, it's just...a couple of days, paid leave, to see if he can get his head back in the game." He cleared his throat, reaching slowly across the table, and took hold of one of her hands. He pulled on it, softly but demanding, and wrapped his fingers around it. "We aren't here to talk about Fin, though."

"No," she whispered with a small smile. "We're not." Both eyebrows rose and fell with a light huff, then. "I honestly can't believe we're here at all," she chuckled. "This place, it's...too nice for a couple of co-workers."

He tilted his head and smirked at her. "Exactly," he said. "I'm a little out of practice, here, and maybe I'm not up-to-date on the new ways of doing this, but...I'm pretty sure this is a date." He squeezed her hand and leaned a little closer to her. "Officially."

She pressed her lips together, still looking into his eyes. "You're doing just fine," she said, giving him a wink. She looked around the restaurant again, though, and her heart thudded. She never imagined being in a place like this, with Elliot of all people, for any reason other than an undercover gig.

"We're really here," he whispered, seemingly reading her mind, bringing her fingers up to his mouth. He kissed each of her knuckles and said, "I'm having a hard time believing it, too, but we are. This...this is happening."

She nodded. "I know it is," she said softly. She smiled at him, and all thoughts of Fin and work, and the shit-storm she knew was brewing, fell away.

The waiter came and went like a blur, taking food and wine back and forth from the kitchen to their table. Time passed too slowly and too quickly at once, the space between the moments filled with a lot of "first-date" conversation as they both consciously tried to avoid discussions about work, his children, their exes, or anything else that would make them second-guess or doubt what was truly happening.

After her last bite of cheesecake, playfully fed to her by Elliot, Olivia finally looked down at the table. "I can't remember the last time I smiled so much, for so long," she said, pressing her fingers against her sore cheeks. She snorted, then, noticing the candle that had been lit when they sat down was now nothing more than an inch of wick in a puddle of wax. She looked back up at him. "I honestly can't remember ever having a date this...incredible."

"Me either," he said on the remains of a laugh. "I guess...that means we make each other happy."

"Oh, we already knew that," she told him, looking up at him. "It's just, um, safe to admit it now."

He nodded, his head titled and a hazy look in his eyes. "I think we're overstaying our welcome," he said, jutting his chin in the direction of a slightly annoyed group of waiters and a rather impatient looking maitre d. "As much as I'm paying for this, you'd think they'd be a little less pissy." He chuckled as he glanced down at his watch. "Oh, uh...wow," he mumbled. "No wonder."

"What?" she asked, her broad smile still in place.

He grinned at her. "They closed an hour ago," he said sheepishly. He shoved his hand in his pocket, finally signaling a waiter that he was ready to pay. He counted out enough twenty-dollar bills to cover the bill and rightfully generous tip, and then shot to his feet, holding out his hand. When her fingers slipped into his palm, he pulled her to her feet and led her toward and through the restaurant's front doors. He laughed when he heard an immediate click behind him. "Did I tell you..." he paused, taking off his suit jacket and wrapping it around her, "How beautiful you are?"

She laughed, tossing her head back a bit. "Oh, please. This dress is as old as..."

"Not just tonight," he interrupted. "You're always beautiful." He began walking, tugging her along with him, in the direction of her apartment. "You're incredible." He shoved the hand not holding hers into the pocket of his pants. "I don't think I tell you that enough."

"I'm nothing special," she said almost shyly, keeping grip on his hand as they turned around the corner.

"Are you shitting me?" he chuckled. "The way you work with victims, how you just...give them hope and...God, with one word from you, you give them their lives back. It's the most incredible thing I've ever seen."

She smiled at him. "You're my partner," she said. "You don't think, just maybe, I work that way, that well, because of you?"

Smugly, he grinned, but he shook his head. "No, you'd be just as wonderful without me."

"God, no, I wouldn't," she whispered, grimacing suddenly. "Don't even joke about that."

"I'm not going anywhere," he promised her, pulling her up the front steps of her building. "I promise."

She nodded once as she fished her keys out of her handbag, walking with Elliot up the stairs to her floor. "Thank God for that," she finally said with a laugh.

As she opened her door, Elliot smoothed his hand down her back, trying to figure out how to say what he needed to say. He ran his hand up and down the red material, and then followed her into the apartment, let her lay his jacket and her bag on the nearest chair and kick off her shoes, but he stopped her before she could flick on the light. He pulled her arm just enough to get her to turn around, and he gave her a long, soft, slow kiss.

She kissed him back, her stunned hands wrapped around his tie, and with her eyes still closed she backed away from him. "Was that my kiss goodnight, already?"

"I hope not," he laughed, toeing off his shoes and kicking them into the corner where hers lay. "By the way, it doesn't matter how old that dress is, you know, you're gorgeous in it."

She rolled her eyes. "Enough with the compli..."

"No, Liv," he interrupted her. "I'm telling you...you are...the most beautiful woman I have ever seen, and I mean it." He flicked a strand of her hair out of her eyes with one of his fingers. "You've got the most stunning brown eyes. I can see...everything...in your eyes. Your body...could start wars." He leaned over and whispered, "I'd fight them, and I'd win."

She laughed softly, blinking, and looked away from him.

"Hold on," he said, cupping her chin and pulling her back to look at him. "Don't do that. I'm not just saying this to work my way into bed with you, I'm being honest." He shrugged, almost defeated. "I don't think I've ever told you...what I really see when I look at you. What you...make me feel." He ran his free hand down his face as the other squeezed her hand again. "I look at you, Liv, and all the bullshit...it just goes away. When I think I'm losing grip, I look at you...and I know I can hold on a little longer. When I'm falling, I just have to look at you, and I know...I'm going to land on my feet and be just fucking fine, because you're there, and you're mine." He shrugged and pressed his lips together, shaking his head. "I know you weren't...not really...until tonight, but part me always thought of you as..."

"El," she said to silence him, her stunned eyes wet with tears, her heart thumping hard against her chest. "I was," she told him. "I am." She let her head drop against his chest. "You do that for me, too, you know," she admitted to him. "There are days when I don't want to get out of bed, but then I...I think about you, about your eyes, and your...your strength...and that's why..."

His lips stopped her words this time. The kiss was more insistent, more certain. "I know," he whispered as he pulled away, breathing a bit more heavily. "I guess, I just...I was trying to tell you..." He stopped talking, took both of her hands in his, and looked down at her with as much honesty and sincerity as any person had the right to have. "I love you."

She held his gaze, intensely, firmly, as she pulled him toward her, with her, backward, into the bedroom. She saw him move and did nothing to stop it, did not try to shift her weight or shy away. His lips covered hers and the force of his body rushing against hers was enough to topple them over, onto the mattress. She shivered, goose-bumps rising, as his chilly fingers danced along her hot skin, traveling under her dress, teasing at the silk and lace that hid beneath it. Her mind now blank, she moved just enough to give him permission, and she held her breath as she felt the thin, strappy material being tugged away from her body, down her thighs.

She knew exactly what was happening. She knew they both wanted this, needed this, and it was already better than any of the near-million times she'd imagined it. His lips never stopped kissing hers, as his fingers worked to unzip her deep-red dress.

He pulled away from her, then, with half her dress crumpled in his hand and a fresh-burning light in his eyes. "Liv," he whispered, and though he tried not to make his fear obvious, the name left his lips with a tremble.

She smoothed both of her hands up his back, over his chest, along his neck, until she was cupping his clenching jaw and tense cheeks. She smiled at him, the love in his eyes rivaling the devotion in hers. She pulled his head toward hers again, kissed him with more fire than she had before, and worked one hand downward to tug on his belt.

Is was all the affirmation he needed, and he pulled her body up a bit and began to slide the shimmery fabric down and off of her. He'd never been more grateful for his dexterity. He took a breath, and as he let her body ease back down onto the bed, he slowly opened his eyes. He swatted her hands away from his half-down pants, and he took her in. All of her. His eyes roved over every blessed inch of her naked body, the detective in him memorized every detail, every freckle and birthmark, while the man in him seethed with the need to bury his head between her thighs and take her to places he was certain no man ever had before, or ever would again. She was his, now. He would make that damn clear in a moment.

Her heart was racing too fast, too furiously, for her to sit still anymore, and with one great yank, she got his pants the rest of the way over his hips and heard his hearty chuckle as they slipped off of his ankles and onto the floor. She looked up at him again, her bottom lip gnashed between her teeth and her eyes both concerned and impatient.

He stared back into them as he ripped his shirt up and off, over his head, not caring that the action popped three buttons. He tossed it behind him, licked his lips, and moved slowly as he covered her body with his. He kissed her again, slowly, deeply, as his fingertips teased the topography of her. Over her hills, into her valleys, along every curve and dimple, until he felt her wriggling and heard her moans. He let his right hand trail along on more path, sliding between her legs, and his stunned gasp escaped just before a delicious moan.

She moaned, too, a bit lower, throatier, right into his open mouth as they kissed. As she felt him work two of his thick, calloused fingers into her, her fingers curled, and her nails sunk into his shoulder blades. She heard him mumble something against the skin of her neck, through his sucking and biting. "God,yes, Elliot," she returned.

He moved his lips from her throat to her lips, moved his hand from her body to the mattress, and shifted his weight slightly.

She gasped softly, her nails digging deeper into the skin of his back, and she gave a soft thrust of her hips, begging him.

Slowly, he pushed into her, a shaky moan leaving his lips and falling into her mouth as they kissed. With his next wave-like thrust, their world began spinning in a new direction, everything they'd known until now had come undone and had to be rebuilt in this moment. Each collision of their bodies and mouths solidified a shift in their universe, and at the moment, neither was concerned with the fallout that the morning after would certainly bring.

 ** _Peace and Love_**

 ** _Jo_**


End file.
